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PI  FTESMTOiEOIXtQH. 

CHICAGO:  F.  J.  SCHULTE  & CO.,  PUBLISHERS, 


“ The  Book  of  the  Epoch.  A Wonderfully  Fascinating  Work 


C>ESAR’S  Column 

A STORY  OF  THE  TWENTIETH  CENTURY. 

BY  EDMUND  BOISGILBERT,  M.  D, 


ONE  of  the  most  remarkable  books  ever  written.  The  author,  a man  of 
wealth  and  high  social  position,  and  who  writes  under  a nom  de  phcme^ 
presents,  in  a wonderfully  fascinating  and  startlingly  original  work  of  fic- 
tion, a profound  study  of  present  sociological  conditions,  and  follovvs  these 
conditions  out  to  what  he  believes  will  be  their  enevitable  result.  The 
events  described  in  the  story  take  place  in  the  year  1988,  and  the  scene  is 
laid  in  New  York  City,  containing  at  that  time  ten  million  inhabitants. 

SOME  WEIGHTY  OPINIONS. 


“ That  our  people  in  this  country  need  arousing  is 
unquestionably  true,  and  you  have  fought  forward 
a Oatoriel’s  trump  of  a very  different  sort  from 
the  one  concerning  which  I have  been  wont  to 
think.  ’’—FRANCES  E.  WILLARD. 

“ I find  in  it  evidence  of  great  litei.ary  abil- 
ity, abounding,  as  it  does,  in  great  wealtli  of* 
imagery  aud.  vividness  of*  detail.  * * 

As  an  example  of  high  literary  form,  the  book 
deserves  unstinted  praise.” — CARDINAL 
GIBBONS. 

“ ‘ Cgesar’s  Column,’  in  its  vivid  portrayal,  will  lead 
many  to  realize  better  the  many  dangers  to  which 
our  country  is  liable.” — HON.  WM.  LARRABEE. 

“ Certainly  a very  extraordinary  produc- 
tion.”— Rev.  Bishop  H.  C.  POTTER. 

“ I was  unable  to  lay  it  down  until  I had  finished 
reading  it.  It  should  be  read  by  every  farmer  in 
the  land.’' — H.  L.  LOUCKS,  President  National 
Farmers''  Alliance. 

‘‘Bellamy  looks  backward  upon 'what  is  impossi- 
ble as  well  as  improbable.  ‘ Caesar’s  Column  ’ looks 
forward  to  what  is  not  only  possil>le,  l>ut  prol>- 
al»le.” — MILTON  GEORGE,  Founder  of  the 
Fanners"'  Alliance. 

'“I  have  read  ‘Caesar’s  Column’  twice  and  am 
convinced  that  it  has  been  written  in  tlie  nick, 
of* time.  * ❖ I predict  for  the  book  an  im- 

mense sale  and  a world-wide  discussiop.” — COR- 
INNE  S.  BROWN,  Secretary  Nationalist  Club., 
Chicago. 

“ Peculiarly  timely  at  the  present  time,  and 
should  have  a wide  reading  among  thinking  people.” 
— B.  O.  FLOWER. 

“ From  the  time  that  I received  a copy  of  ‘ Caesar’s 
Column  ’ until  after  two  o’c  ock  the  next  morning  I 
read  with  the  mo8t  intense  interest  to  the  end. 
Only  once  before  in  my  life  has  a book  in  any  degree 
affected  me  like  this  one.  That  was  Charles  Reade’s 
‘ Put  Yourself  in  His  Place.’  ‘ Progress  and  Poverty,’ 
.Rebel’s  ‘Woman,’  Gronlund’s  ‘Commonwealth,’  and 
’even  ‘ Looking  Backward  ’ — all  have  failed  to  arouse 
in  me  sufficient  interest  to  receive  a complete  perusal. 
But  ‘Caesar’s  Column  ’.  will  receive  no  such  indiffer- 
ent attention.  To  coniiiKuicc  it  is  to  linisli  it. 
and  to  finish  it  is  in  my  case  the  creation  of  an  im- 
patient desire  to  read  it  again.” — T.  J.  MORGAN. 


“ The  book  points  out  tendencies  which  actually 
exist  and  are  in  need  of  cure.  It  warns  us  with 
vehemence  and  force  of  the  necessity  of  guarding  our 
liberties  against  the  encroachments  of  monopoly  and 
plutocracy,  and  of  disarming  corruption  in  govern- 
ment by  every  device  that  a vigilant  ingenuity  can 
supply.”— GEORGE  CARY  EGGLESTON  in  New 
York  World. 

‘‘  I began  the  book  in  the  morning,  and  read  it  care- 
fully to  the  end  the  same  day.  It  is  exceotliiigly 
interesting  as  a narrative  and  is  written  by  a 
man  of  tliouglit,  learning  and  imagination. 
I consider  ‘ Caesar’s  Column  ’ tlie  l>est  work  of 
its  elass — prophetic  forecasts  of  the  future  of  civil- 
ized society — that  has  appeared  since  Bulwer’s‘  Com- 
ing Race.’  The  difficulty  of  conveying  without  heavi- 
ness the  author’s  views  as  to  the  elements  and  organ- 
ization of  a true  society  has  been  met  witn  rarr 
ability.  The  views  themselves,  in  their  general 
scope,  are  sound  and  wise,  and  such  as  those 
who  have  the  welfare  of  humanity  at  heart  would  re- 
joice to  see  realized.  There  are,  of  course,  almost  as 
many  plans  of  reform  as  there  are  reformers,  but  the 
present  author's  scheme  is  open  to  as  few  objections 
as  any  that  I have  seen  advanced. 

“ I was  impressed  with  tlie  power  of  tlie  book 
— tlie  viviilness  and  strengtii  with  which  the 
tragic  incidents  of  the  tale  are  described  and  devel- 
oped. Tlie  plot  is  absorbing,  and  yet  nothing 
in  it  seems  forced;  and  the  conception  of  the  column 
is  as  original  as  its  treatment  is  vigorous.  There  i> 
no  padding  in  the  book:  the  events  are  portrayed 
tersely  and  clearly.  The  analysis  of  the  steps  which 
lead  society  from  the  point  at  which  it  stands  to-day. 
to  that  which  it  occupies  a century  hence,  is  reasW^- 
able  and  sagacious;  and  the  breadth  of  the  authbr  s 
mind,  as  well  as  his  careful  study  of  social  conditions, 
is  made  evident  by  his  treatment  of  the  discus5l®iiv 
put  in  the  mouths  of  his  characters.  Justice  is  doiM 
to  each  side.  * * * As  must  always  be  the  case  in 
stories  of  this  type,  the  characters  are  the  least  vftki- 
able  feature  of  it — though  Estalla,  in  at  least  one 
scene,  rises  to  a high  dramatic  level.  But  the  magni» 
tude  and  novelty  of  the  incidents  overpower  the  per- 
sons. * * * I should  not  be  surprised  to  see  ‘ 
Column’ attain  an  immense  vogue.  It  has  man>  oi 
the  elements  of  popular  success,  and  is,  bcsideikiW 
earnest  and  instructive  piece  of  work.” — JULIAN 
HAWTHORNE. 


C/ESAR’S  COLUMN 


A Story  of  the  Twentieth  Century. 


BY 

EDMUND  BOISGILBERT,  M.  D. 

[IGNATIUS  DONNELLY.] 


“ The  true  poet  is  only  a masked  father-confessor^  whose  special 
function  it  is  to  exhibit  what  is  dangerous  in  sentiment  and  per- 
nicious in  action,  by  a vivid  picture  of  the  consequences  — Goethe, 


CHICAGO: 

F.  J.  SCHULTE  & COMPANY, 

1891. 


Copyright,  1890, 

By  FRANCIS  J.  SCHULTE. 

All  Rights  Reserved. 


i ' 

i - 
i ^ 


SIS 


remot 


TO  THE  PUBLIC. 


K 

^ It  is  to  you,  0 thoughtful  and  considerate  pub* 
Ip  he,  that  I dedicate  this  book.  May  it,  under  th(‘ 
J>  providence  of  God,  do  good  to  this  generation  and 
p posterity ! 

I I earnestly  hope  my  meaning,  in  the  writing 

thereof,  may  not  be  misapprehended. 

It  must  not  be  thought,  because  I am  constrained 
to  describe  the  overthrow  of  civilization,  that  I desire 
it.  The  prophet  is  not  responsible  for  the  event  he 
foretells.  He  may  contemplate  it  with  profoundest 
sorrow.  Christ  wept  over  the  doom  of  Jerusalem 

Neither  am  I an  anarchist : for  I paint  a dreadful 
picture  of  the  world-wreck  which  successful  anarchism 
would  produce. 

I seek  to  preach  into  the  ears  of  the  able  and  rich 
and  powerful  the  great  truth  that  neglect  of  the 
sufferings  of  their  fellows,  indifference  to  the  great 
bond  of  brotherhood  which  lies  at  the  base  of  Christ- 
ianity, and  blind,  brutal  and  degrading  worship  of 

merewealth,  must— given  time  and  pressure  enough 

eventuate  in  the  overthrow  of  society  and  the  de- 
'j  of  civilization. 

' ^ +1.  I come  to  the  churches  with  my  heart  filled  with 

V :::  respect  for  the  essentials  of  religion- 

j . I seek  to  show  them  why  they  have  lost  their  hold 


4 


CESAR’S  COLUMN. 


upon  the  poor, — upon  that  vast  multitude,  the  best- 
beloved  of  God’s  kingdom, — and  I point  out  to  them 
how  they  may  regain  it.  I tell  them  that  if  Eeligion 
is  to  reassume  her  ancient  station,  as  crowned  mis- 
tress of  the  souls  of  men,  she  must  stand,  in  shining 
armor  bright,  with  the  serpent  beneath  her  feet,  the 
champion  and  defender  of  mankind  against  all  its 
oppressors. 

The  world,  to-day,  clamors  for  deeds,  not  creeds ; 
for  bread,  not  dogma;  for  charity,  not  ceremony; 
for  love,  not  intellect. 

Some  will  say  the  events  herein  described  are  ab- 
surdly impossible. 

Who  is  it  that  is  satisfied  with  the  present  un- 
happy  condition  of  society  ? It  is  conceded  that  life 
is  a dark  and  wretched  failure  for  the  great  mass  of 
mankind.  The  many  are  plundered  to  enrich  the  few. 
Vast  combinations  depress  the  price  of  labor  and  in- 
crease the  cost  of  the  necessaries  of  existence.  The 
rich,  as  a rule,  despise  the  poor;  and  the  popr  are 
coming  to  hate  the  rich.  The  face  of  labor  grows 
sullen;  the  old  tender  Christian  love  is  gone;  stand- 
ing armies  are  formed  on  one  side,  and  great  com- 
munistic organizations  on  the  other ; society  divides 
itself  into  two  hostile  camps;  no  white  flags  pass 
from  the  one  to  the  other.  They  wait  only  for  the 
drum-beat  and  the  trumpet  to  summon  them  to 
armed  conflict. 

These  conditions  have  come  about  in  less  than  a 
century;  most  of  them  in  a quarter  of  a century. 
Multiply  them  by  the  years  of  another  century,  and 
who  shall  say  that  the  events  I depict  are  impossible? 
There  is  an  acceleration  of  movement  inhumanaflairs 
even  as  there  is  in  the  operations  of  gravity.  The 


CESAR'S  COLUMN. 


5 


dead  missile  out  of  space  at  last  blazes,  and  the  very 
air  takes  fire.  The  masses  grow  more  intelligent  as 
they  grow  more  wretched;  and  more  capable  of  co- 
operation as  they  become  more  desperate.  The  labor 
organizations  of  to-day  would  have  been  impossible 
fifty  years  ago.  And  what  is  to  arrest  the  flow  of 
effect  from  cause?  What  is  to  prevent  the  coming  of 
the  night  if  the  earth  continues  to  revolve  on  its  axis? 
The  fool  may  cry  out:  “There  shall  be  no  night!” 
But  the  feet  of  the  hours  march  unrelentingly  toward 
the  darkness. 

Some  may  think  that,  even  if  all  this  be  true, 
“ Csesar’s  Column  ” should  not  have  been  published. 
Will  it  arrest  the  moving  evil  to  ignore  its  presence? 
What  would  be  thought  of  the  surgeon  who,  seeing 
upon  his  patient’s  lip  the  first  nodule  of  the  cancer, 
tells  him  there  is  no  danger,  and  laughs  him  into  se- 
curity while  the  roots  of  the  monster  eat  their  way 
toward  the  great  arteries?  If  my  message  be  true  it 
should  be  spoken ; and  the  world  should  hear  it.  The 
cancer  should  be  cut  out  while  there  is  yet  time.  Any 
other  course 

“ Will  but  skin  and  film  the  ulcerous  place, 

While  rank  corruption,  mining  all  beneath. 

Infects  unseen.’’ 

Believing,  as  I do,  that  I read  the  future  aright,  it 
would  be  criminal  in  me  to  remain  silent.  I plead  for 
higher  and  nobler  thoughts  in  the  souls  of  men ; for 
wider  love  and  ampler  charity  in  their  hearts ; for  a 
renewal  of  the  bond  of  brotherhood  between  the 
classes;  for  a reign -of  justice  on  earth  that  shall 
obliterate  the  cruel  hates  and  passions  which  now 
divide  the  world. 


6 


CJESAR^S  COLUMN. 


If  God  notices  anything  so  insignificant  as  this 
poor  book,  I pray  that  he  may  use  it  as  an  instrm 
mentality  of  good  for  mankind ; for  he  knows  I love 
his  human  creatures,  and  would  help  them  if  I had  the 
power. 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER.  PAGE. 

I.  The  Great  City 9 

II.  My  Adventure 23 

III.  The  Beggar’s  Home 29 

IV.  The  Under-world  . 42 

V.  Estella  Washington 51 

VI.  The  Interview  . . . . . . . .58 

YII.  The  Hiding-place 70 

VIII.  The  Brotherhood  77 

IX.  The  Poisoned  Knife 85 

X.  PREt>ARATIONS  FOR  To-NIGHT 99 

XI.  How  THE  World  Came  to  be  Ruined  . . 103 

XII.  Gabriel’s  Utopia 116 

XIH.  The  Council  of  the  Oligarchy  . . . 134 

XIV.  The  Spy’s  Story 142 

XV.  The  Master  of  ‘-The  Demons”  . . . 152 

XVI.  Gabriel’s  Folly 158 

XVII.  The  Flight  and  Pursuit 161 

XVIII.  The  Fxecution  . . . . . . . . 168 

XIX.  The  Mamelukes  of  the  Air  . . . . 178 

XX.  The  Workingmen’s  Meeting 186 

XXI.  A Sermon  of  the  Twentieth  Century  . . 207 

XXII.  Fstella  and  I . 223 

XXIII.  Max’s  Story— The  Songstress  ....  231 

XXIV.  Max’s  Story  Continued  — The  Journeyman 

Printer 238 

XXV.  Max’s  Story  Continued— The  Dark  Shadow  248 

XXVI.  Max’s  Story  Continued  — The  Widow  and  her 

Son 257 

XXVII.  Max’s  Story  Continued  —The  Blacksmith  Shop  262 

XXVIII.  Max’s  Story  Concluded  — The  Unexpected  Hap- 
pens   265 

7 


8 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER.  PAGE. 

XXIX.  Elysium 278 

XXX.  Upon  the  Housetop  . . . . . . . 284 

XXXI.  ‘‘Sheol’’ 289 

XXXII.  The  Rat-tbap 294 

XXXIII.  “The  Ocean  Overpeers  its  List”  . . . 299 

XXXIV.  The  Prince  Gives  his  Last  Bribe  . . . 805 

XXXY.  The  Liberated  Prisoner 810 

XXXVI.  Ca:sar  Erects  his  Monument  ....  317 

XXXVII.  The  Second  Day 327 

XXXVIII.  The  Flight 834 

XXXIX.  Europe 344 

XL.  The  Garden  in  the  Mountains  . . . . 350 


C/ESAR’S  COLUMN. 


CHAPTER  I. 

THE  GREAT  CITY. 

[This  hook  is  a series  of  letters,  from  Gabriel  Weltstein,  in  New 

York,  to  his  brother,  Heinrich  Weltstein,  in  the  State  of 

Uganda,  Africa.'] 

New  York,  Sept.  10,  1988. 

My  Dear  Brother: 

Here  I am,  at  last,  in  the  great  city.  My  eyes  are 
weary  with  gazing,  and  my  mouth  speechless  with 
admiration;  but  in  my  brain  rings  perpetually  the 
thought:  Wonderful!  — wonderful! — most  wonder- 
ful! 

What  an  infinite  thing  is  man,  as  revealed  in  the 
tremendous  civilization  he  has  built  up ! These 
swarming,  laborious,  all-capable  ants  seem  great 
enough  to  attack  heaven  itself,  if  they  could  but  find 
a resting-place  for  their  ladders.  Who  can  fix  a limit 
to  the  intelligence  or  the  achievements  of  our  species? 

But  our  admiration  may  be  here,  and  our  hearts 
elsewhere.  And  so  from  all  this  glory  and  splendor  I 
turn  back  to  the  old  homestead,  amid  the  high  moun- 
tain valleys  of  Africa ; to  the  primitive,  simple  shep- 
herd-life ; to  my  beloved  mother,  to  you  and  to  all 
our  dear  ones.  This  gorgeous,  gilded  room  fades 
away,  and  I see  the  leaning  hills,  the  trickling  streams, 
the  deep  gorges  where  our  woolly  thousands  graze ; 


10 


CESAR’S  COLUMN. 


and  I hear  once  more  the  echoing  Swiss  horns  of  our 
herdsmen  reverberating  from  the  snow-tipped  moun- 
tains. 

But  my  dream  is  gone.  The  roar  of  the  mighty 
city  rises  around  me  like  the  bellow  of  many  cata- 
racts. 

New  York  contains  now  ten  million  inhabitants ; 
it  is  the  largest  city  that  is,  or  ever  has  been,  in  the 
world.  It  is  difficult  to  say  wffiere  it  begins  or  ends: 
for  the  villas  extend,  in  almost  unbroken  succession, 
clear  to  Philadelphia;  while  east,  west  and  north 
noble  habitations  spread  out  mile  after  mile,  far  be- 
yond the  municipal  limits. 

But  the  wonderful  city ! Let  me  tell  you  of  it. 

As  we  approached  it  in  our  air-ship,  coming  from 
the  east,  we  could  see,  a hundred  miles  before  we 
reached  the  continent,  the  radiance  of  its  millions  of 
magnetic  lights,  reflected  on  the  sky,  like  the  glare  of 
a great  conflagration.  These  lights  are  not  fed,  as  in 
the  old  time,  from  electric  dynamos,  but  the  magnet- 
ism of  the  planet  itself  is  harnessed  for  the  use  of 
man.  That  marvelous  earth-force  which  the  Indians 
called  “the  dance  of  the  spirits,”  and  civilized  man 
designated  “the  aurora  borealis,”  is  now  used  to 
illuminate  this  great  metropolis,  with  a clear,  soft, 
white  light,  like  that  of  the  full  moon,  but  many 
times  brighter.  And  the  force  is  so  cunningly  con- 
served that  it  is  returned  to  the  earth,  without  any 
loss  of  magnetic  power  to  the  planet.  Man  has 
simply  made  a temporary  loan  from  nature  for  which 
he  pays  no  interest. 

Night  and  day  are  all  one,  for  the  magnetic  light 
increases  antomatically  as  the  day-light  wanes ; and 
the  business  parts  of  the  city  swarm  as  much  at  mid- 


CJ^SAR'S  COLUMN. 


11 


night  as  at  high  noon.  In  the  old  times,  I am  told, 
part  of  the  streets  was  reserved  for  foot-paths  for 
men  and  women,  while  the  middle  was  given  up  to 
horses  and  wheeled  vehicles ; and  one  could  not  pass 
from  side  to  side  without  danger  of  being  trampled  to 
death  by  the  horses.  But  as  the  city  grew  it  was 
found  that  the  pavements  would  not  hold  the  mighty, 
surging  multitudes;  they  were  crowded  into  the  streets, 
and  many  accidents  occurred.  The  authorities  were 
at  length  compelled  to  exclude  all  horses  from  the 
streets,  in  the  business  parts  of  the  city,  and  raise  the 
central  parts  to  a level  with  the  sidewalks,  and  give 
them  up  to  the  exclusive  use  of  the  pedestrians,  erect- 
ing stone  pillars  here  and  there  to  divide  the  multi- 
tude moving  in  one  direction  from  those  flowing  in 
another.  These  streets  are  covered  with  roofs  of  glass, 
which  exclude  the  rain  and  snow,  but  not  the  air. 
And  then  the  wonder  and  glory  of  the  shops ! They 
surpass  all  description.  Below  all  the  business  streets 
are  subterranean  streets,  where  vast  trains  are 
drawn,  by  smokeless  and  noiseless  electric  motors, 
some  carrying  passengers,  others  freight.  At  every 
street  corner  there  are  electric  elevators,  by  which 
passengers  can  ascend  or  descend  to  the  trains.  And 
high  above  the  house-tops,  built  on  steel  pillars,  there 
are  other  railroads,  not  like  the  unsightly  elevated 
trains  we  saw  pictures  of  in  our  school  books,  but 
crossing  diagonally  over  the  city,  at  a great  height, 
so  as  to  best  economize  time  and  distance. 

The  whole  territory  between  Broadway  and  the 
Bowery  and  Broome  Street  and  Houston  Street  is 
occupied  by  the  depot  grounds  of  the  great  inter-con- 
tinental air-lines  ; and  it  is  an  a stonishing  sight  to  see 
the  ships  ascending  and  descending,  like  monstrous 


12 


CjESAR’S  column. 


birds,  black  with  swarming  masses  of  passengers,  to 
or  from  England,  Europe,  South  America,  the  Pacific 
Coast,  Australia,  China,  India  and  Japan. 

These  air-lines  are  of  two  kinds : the  anchored  and 
the  independent.  The  former  are  hung,  by  revolving 
wheels,  upon  great  wires  suspended  in  the  air;  the 
wires  held  in  place  by  metallic  balloons,  fish-shaped, 
made  of  aluminium,  and  constructed  to  turn  with 
the  wind  so  as  to  present  always  the  least  sur- 
face to  the  air-currents.  These  balloons,  where 
the  lines  cross  the  oceans,  are  secured  to  huge 
fioating  islands  of  timber,  which  are  in  turn  anchored 
to  the  bottom  of  the  sea  by  four  immense  metallic 
cables,  extending  north,  south,  east  and  west,  and 
powerful  enough  to  resist  any  storms.  These  artificial 
islands  contain  dwellings,  in  which  men  reside,  who 
keep  up  the  supply  of  gas  necessary  for  the  balloons. 
The  independent  air-lines  are  huge  cigar-shaped 
balloons,  unattached  to  the  earth,  moving  by  electric 
power,  with  such  tremendous  speed  and  force  as  to  be 
as  little  affected  by  the  winds  as  a cannon  ball.  In 
fact,  unless  the  wind  is  directly  ahead  the  sails  of  the 
craft  are  so  set  as  to  take  advantage  of  it  like  the 
sails  of  a ship ; and  the  balloon  rises  or  falls,  as  the 
birds  do,  by  the  angle  at  which  it  is  placed  to  the 
wind,  the  stream  of  air  forcing  it  up,  or  pressing  it 
down,  as  the  case  may  be.  And  just  as  the  old- 
fashioned  steam-ships  were  provided  with  boats,  in 
which  the  passengers  were  expected  to  take  refuge,  if 
the  ship  was  about  to  sink,  so  the  upper  decks  of 
these  air-vessels  are  supplied  with  parachutes,  from 
which  are  suspended  boats ; and  in  case  of  accident 
two  sailors  and  ten  passengers  are  assigned  to  each 
parachute;  and  long  practice  has  taught  the  bold 


CJESAR’S  COLUMN. 


13 


craftsmen  to  descend  gently  and  alight  in  the  sea, 
even  in  stormy  weather,  with  as  much  adroitness  as 
a sea-gull.  In  fact,  a whole  population  of  air-sailors 
has  grown  up  to  manage  these  ships,  never  dreamed 
of  by  our  ancestors.  The  speed  of  these  aerial  vessels 
is,  as  you  know,  very  great— thirty -six  hours  suffices 
to  pass  from  New  York  to  London,  in  ordinary 
weather.  The  loss  of  life  has  been  less  than  on  the 
old-fashioned  steam-ships ; for,  as  those  which  go  east 
move  at  a greater  elevation  than  those  going  west, 
there  is  no  danger  of  collisions ; and  they  usually  fly 
above  the  fogs  which  add  so  much  to  the  dangers  of 
sea-travel.  In  case  of  hurricanes  they  rise  at  once  to 
the  higher  levels,  above  the  storm ; and,  with  our  in- 
creased scientific  knowledge,  the  coming  of  a cyclone 
is  known  for  many  days  in  advance ; and  even  the 
stratum  of  air  in  which  it  will  move  can  be  foretold. 

I could  spend  hours,  my  dear  brother,  telling  you 
of  the  splendor  of  this  hotel,  called  The  Darwin,  in 
honor  of  the  great  English  philosopher  of  the  last 
century.  It  occupies  an  entire  block  from  Fifth  Ave- 
nue to  Madison  Avenue,  and  from  Forty-sixth  Street 
to  Forty-seventh.  The  whole  structure  consists  of 
an  infinite  series  of  cunning  adjustments,  for  the  de- 
light and  gratification  of  the  human  creature.  One 
object  seems  to  be  to  relieve  the  guests  from  all  ne- 
cessity for  muscular  exertion.  The  ancient  elevator, 
or  “lift,”  as  they  called  it  in  England,  has  expanded 
until  now  whole  rooms,  filled  with  ladies  and  gentle- 
men, are  bodily  carried  up  from  the  first  story  to  the 
roof;  a professional  musician  playing  the  while  on 
the  piano — not  the  old-fashioned  thing  our  grand- 
mothers used,  but  a huge  instrument  capable  of  giv- 
ing forth  all  sounds  of  harmony  from  the  trill  of  a 


14 


CMSAR'S  COLUMN. 


nightingale  to  the  thunders  of  an  orchestra.  And 
when  you  reach  the  roof  of  the  hotel  you  find  yourself 
in  a glass-covered  tropical  forest,  filled  with  the  per- 
fume of  many  fiowers,  and  bright  with  the  scintillating 
plumage  of  darting  birds ; all  sounds  of  sweetness  fill 
the  air,  and  many  glorious,  star-eyed  maidens,  guests 
of  the  hotel,  wander  half  seen  amid  the  foliage,  like  the 
houris  in  the  Mohammedan’s  heaven. 

But  as  I found  myself  growing  hungry  I descended 
to  the  dining-room.  It  is  three  hundred  feet  long:  a 
vast  multitude  were  there  eating  in  perfect  silence.  It 
is  considered  bad  form  here  to  interrupt  digestion  with 
speech,  as  such  a practice  tends  to  draw  the  vital  pow- 
ers, it  is  said,  away  from  the  stomach  to  the  head.  Our 
forefathers  were  expected  to  shine  in  conversation, 
and  be  wise  and  witty  while  gulping  their  food  be- 
tween brilliant  passages.  I sat  down  at  a table  to 
which  I was  marshaled  by  a grave  and  reverend  seign- 
ior in  an  imposing  uniform.  As  I took  my  seat  my 
weight  set  some  machinery  in  motion.  A few  feet  in 
front  of  me  suddenly  rose  out  of  the  table  a large 
upright  mirror,  or  such  I took  it  to  be ; but  instantly 
there  appeared  on  its  surface  a grand  bill  of  fare,  each 
article  being  numbered.  The  whole  world  had  been 
ransacked  bo  produce  the  viands  named  in  it;  neither 
the  frozen  recesses  of  the  north  nor  the  sweltering 
regions  of  the  south  had  been  spared : every  form  of 
food,  animal  and  vegetable,  bird,  beast,  reptile,  fish ; 
the  foot  of  an  elephant,  the  hump  of  a buffalo,  the 
edible  bird-nests  of  China;  snails,  spiders,  shell-fish, 
the  strange  and  luscious  creatures  lately  found  in  the 
extreme  depths  of  the  ocean,  and  fished  for  with  dyna- 
mite ; in  fact,  every  form  of  food  pleasant  to  the  palate 
of  man  was  there.  For,  as  you  know,  there  are  men 


CJESAR’S  COLUMN. 


15 


who  make  fortunes  now  by  preserving  and  breeding 
the  game  animals,  like  the  deer,  the  moose,  the  elk, 
the  buffalo,  the  antelope,  the  mountain  sheep  and 
goat,  and  many  others,  which  but  for  their  care  would 
long  since  have  become  extinct.  They  select  barren 
regions  in  mild  climates,  not  fit  for  agriculture,  and 
enclosing  large  tracts  with  wire  fences,  they  raise 
great  quantities  of  these  valuable  game  animals,  which 
they  sell  to  the  wealthy  gourmands  of  the  great  cities, 
at  very  high  prices. 

I was  perplexed,  and,  turning  to  the  great  man 
who  stood  near  me,  I began  to  name  a few'  of  the  ar- 
ticles I wanted.  He  smiled  complacently  at  my 
country  ignorance,  and  called  my  attention  to  the 
fact  that  the  table  immediately  before  me  contained 
hundreds  of  little  knobs  or  buttons,  each  one  num- 
bered ; and  he  told  me  that  these  w'ere  connected  by 
electric  wires  with  the  kitchen  of  the  hotel,  and  if 
I would  observe  the  numbers  attached  to  any  arti- 
cles in  the  bill  of  fare  which  I desired,  and  would 
touch  the  corresponding  numbers  of  the  knobs  before 
me,  my  dinner  would  be  ordered  on  a similar  mirror 
in  the  kitchen,  and  speedily  served.  I did  as  he  di- 
rected. In  a little  while  an  electric  bell  near  me  rang; 
the  bill  of  fare  disappeared  from  the  mirror ; there  was 
a slight  clicking  sound ; the  table  parted  in  front  of 
me,  the  electric  knobs  moving  aside ; and  up  through 
the  opening  rose  my  dinner  carefully  arranged,  as 
upon  a table,  which  exactly  filled  the  gap  caused  by 
the  recession  of  that  part  of  the  original  table  which 
contained  the  electric  buttons.  I need  not  say  I was 
astonished.  I commenced  to  eat,  and  immediately 
the- same  bell,  which  had  announced  the  disappearance 
of  the  bill  of  fare,  rang  again.  I looked  up,  and  the 


16 


CESAR'S  COLUMN. 


mirror  now  contained  the  name  of  every  state 
in  the  Republic,  from  Hudson’s  Bay  to  the  Isthmus 
of  Darien ; and  the  names  of  all  the  nations  of  the 
world ; each  name  being  numbered.  My  attendant, 
perceiving  my  perplexity,  called  my  attention  to  the 
fact  that  the  sides  of  the  table  which  had  brought  up 
my  dinner  contained  another  set  of  electric  buttons, 
corresponding  with  the  numbers  on  the  mirror ; and 
he  explained  to  me  that  if  I would  select  any  state  or 
country  and  touch  the  corresponding  button  the  news 
of  the  day,  from  that  state  or  country,  would  appear 
in  the  mirror.  He  called  my  attention  to  the  fact 
that  every  guest  in  the  room  had  in  front  of  him  a 
similar  mirror,  and  many  of  them  were  reading  the 
news  of  the  day  as  they  ate.  I touched  the  knob  cor- 
responding with  the  name  of  the  new  state  of  Uganda, 
in  Africa,  and  immediately  there  appeared  in  the  mirror 
all  the  doings  of  the  people  of  that  state — its  crimes, 
its  accidents,  its  business,  the  output  of  its  mines,  the 
markets,  the  sayings  and  doings  of  its  prominent 
men ; in  fact,  the  whole  life  of  the  community  was  un- 
rolled before  me  like  a panorama.  I then  touched  the 
button  for  another  African  state,  Ny  anza ; and  at  once 
I began  to  read  of  new  lines  of  railroad ; new  steam- 
ship fleets  upon  the  great  lake ; of  large  colonies  of 
white  men,  settling  new  states,  upon  the  higher  lands 
of  the  interior ; of  their  colleges,  books,  newspapers ; 
and  particularly  of  a dissertation  upon  the  genius  of 
Chaucer,  written  by  a Zulu  professor,  which  had  cre- 
ated considerable  interest  among  the  learned  societies 
of  the  Transvaal.  I touched  the  button  for  China 
and  read  the  important  news  that  the  Republican 
Congress  of  that  great  and  highly  civilized  nation  had 
decreed  that  English,  the  universal  language  of  the  rest 


C^SAICS  COLUMN. 


17 


of  the  globe,  should  be  hereafter  used  iii  the  courts  of 
justice  and  taught  in  all  the  schools.  Then  came  the 
news  that  a Manchurian  professor,  an  iconoclast,  had 
written  a learned  work,  in  English,  to  prove  that 
George  Washington’s  genius  and  moral  greatness  had 
been  much  over-rated  by  the  partiality  of  his  country- 
men. He  was  answered  by  a learned  doctor  of  Japan^ 
who  argued  that  the  greatness  of  all  great  men  con- 
sisted simply  in  opportunity,  and  that  for  every  illus- 
trious name  that  shone  in  the  pages  of  history, 
associated  with  important  events,  a hundred  abler 
men  had  lived  and  died  unknown.  The  battle  was 
raging  hotly,  and  all  China  and  Japan  were  dividing 
into  contending  factions  upon  this  great  issue. 

Our  poor  ignorant  ancestors  of  a hundred  years  ago 
drank  alcohol  in  various  forms,  in  quantities  which  the 
system  could  not  consume  or  assimilate,  and  it  de- 
stroyed their  organs  and  shortened  their  lives.  Great 
agitations  arose  until  the  manufacture  and  sale  of 
alcoholic  beverages  was  prohibited  over  nearly  all  the 
world.  At  length  the  scientists  observed  that  the 
craving  was  based  on  a natural  want  of  the  system ; 
that  alcohol  was  found  in  small  quantities  in  nearly 
every  article  of  food ; and  that  the  true  course  was  to 
so  increase  the  amount  of  alcohol  in  the  food,  without 
gratifying  the  palate,  as  to  meet  the  real  necessities 
of  the  system,  and  prevent  a decrease  of  the  vital 
powers. 

It  is  laughable  to  read  of  those  days  when  men 
were  drugged  with  pills,  boluses  and  powders.  Now 
our  physic  is  in  our  food ; and  the  doctor  prescribes 
a series  of  articles  to  be  eaten  or  avoided,  as  the  case 
may  be.  One  can  see  at  once  by  consulting  his  “ vital- 
watch,”  which  shows  every  change  in  the  magnetic 
2 


38 


CjEBAR’S  column. 


and  electric  forces  of  the  body,  just  how  his  physical 
strength  wanes  or  increases ; and  he  can  modify  his 
diet  accordingly ; he  can  select,  for  instance,  a dish 
highly  charged  with  quinine  or  iron,  and  yet  perfectly 
palatable ; hence,  among  the  wealthier  classes,  a man 
of  one  hundred  is  as  common  now-a-days  as  a man 
of  seventy  was  a century  ago;  and  many  go  far 
beyond  that  point,  in  full  possession  of  all  their  facul- 
ties. 

I glanced  around  the  great  dining-room  and  in- 
spected my  neighbors.  They  all  carried  the  appear- 
ance of  wealth;  they  were  quiet,  decorous  and 
courteous.  But  I could  not  help  noticing  that  the 
women,  young  and  old,  were  much  alike  in  some 
particulars,  as  if  some  general  causes  had  molded 
them  into  the  same  form.  Their  brows  were  all  fine — 
broad,  square,  and  deep  from  the  ear  forward ; and 
their  jaws  also  were  firmly  developed,  square  like  a 
soldier's ; while  the  profiles  were  classic  in  their  regu- 
larity, and  marked  by  great  firmness.  The  most 
peculiar  feature  was  their  eyes.  They  had  none  of 
that  soft,  gentle,  benevolent  look  which  so  adorns  the 
expression  of  my  dear  mother  and  other  good  women 
whom  we  know.  On  the  contrary,  their,  looks  were 
bold,  penetrating,  immodest,  if  I may  so  express  it, 
almost  to  fierceness : they  challenged  you ; they  invited 
yon ; they  held  intercourse  with  your  soul. 

The  chief  features  in  the  expression  of  the  men  were 
incredulity,  unbelief,  cunning,  observation,  heartless- 
ness. I did  not  see  a good  face  in  the  whole  room : 
powerful  faces  there  were,  1 grant  you ; high  noses, 
resolute  mouths,  fine  brows;  all  the  marks  of  shrewd- 
ness and  energy;  a forcible  and  capable  race;  but 
that  was  all.  I did  not  see  one,  my  dear  brother,  of 


CESAR’S  COLUMN. 


19 


whom  I could  say,  “ That  man  would  sacrifice  himself 
for  another;  that  man  loves  his  fellow  man.” 

I could  not  but  think  how  universal  and  irresisti- 
ble must  have  been  the  influences  of  the  age  that 
could  mold  all  these  men  and  women  into  the  same 
soulless  likeness.  I pitied  them.  I pitied  mankind, 
caught  in  the  grip  of  such  wide-spreading  tendencies. 
I said  to  myself:  “Where  is  it  all  to  end?  What  are 
we  to  expect  of  a race  without  heart  or  honor?  What 
may  we  look  for  w'hen  the  powers  of  the  highest  civili- 
zation supplement  the  instincts  of  tigers  and  wolves  ? 
Can  the  brain  of  man  flourish  when  the  heart  is  dead?” 

I rose  and  left  the  room. 

I had  observed  that  the  air  of  the  hotel  was 
sweeter,  purer  and  cooler  than  that  of  the  streets  out- 
side. I asked  one  of  the  attendants  for  an  explana- 
tion. He  took  me  out  to  where  we  could  command 
a view  of  the  whole  building,  and  showed  me  that  a 
great  canvas  pipe  rose  high  above  the  hotel,  and, 
tracing  it  upwards,  far  as  the  eye  could  reach,  he 
pointed  out  a balloon,  anchored  by  cables,  so  high 
up  as  to  be  dwarfed  to  a mere  speck  against  the  face 
of  the  blue  sky.  He  told  me  that  the  great  pipe  was 
double ; that  through  one  division  rose  the  hot,  ex- 
hausted air  of  the  hotel,  and  that  the  powerful  draft 
so  created  operated  machinery  which  pumped  down 
the  pure,  sweet  air  from  a higher  region,  several  miles 
above  the  earth ; and,  the  current  once  established,  the 
weight  of  the  colder  atmosphere  kept  up  the  move- 
ment, and  the  air  was  then  distributed  by  pipes  to 
every  part  of  the  hotel.  He  told  me  also  that  the 
hospitals  of  the  city  were  supplied  in  the  same  man- 
ner ; and  the  result  had  been,  he  said,  to  diminish  the 
mortality  of  the  sick  one-half ; for  the  air  so  brought 


20 


CjESAR’S  column. 


to  them  was  perfectly  free  from  bacteria  and  full  of 
all  life-giving  properties.  A company  had  been 
organized  to  supply  the  houses  of  the  rich  with  this 
cold,  pure  air  for  so  much  a thousand  feet,  as  long 
ago  illuminating  gas  was  furnished. 

I could  not  help  but  think  that  there  was  need 
that  some  man  should  open  connection  with  the  up- 
per regions  of  God’s  charity,  and  bring  down  the  pure 
beneficent  spirit  of  brotherly  love  to  this  afflicted 
earth,  that  it  might  spread  through  all  the  tainted 
hospitals  of  corruption  for  the  healing  of  the  hearts 
and  souls  of  the  people. 

This  attendant,  a sort  of  upper-servant,  I suppose, 
was  quite  courteous  and  polite,  and,  seeing  that  I 
was  a stranger,  he  proceeded  to  tell  me  that  the 
whole  city  was  warmed  with  hot  water,  drawn  from 
the  profound  depths  of  the  earth,  and  distributed  as 
drinking  water  was  distributed  a century  ago,  in 
pipes,  to  all  the  houses,  for  a fixed  and  very  reason- 
able charge.  This  heat-supply  is  so  uniform  and  so 
cheap  that  it  has  quite  driven  out  all  the  old  forms 
of  fuel — wood,  coal,  natural  gas,  etc. 

And  then  he  told  me  something  which  shocked  me 
greatly.  You  know  that  according  to  our  old-fash- 
ioned ideas  it  is  unjustifiable  for  any  person  to  take 
his  own  life,  and  thus  rush  into  the  presence  of  his 
Maker  before  he  is  called.  We  are  of  the  opinion  of 
Hamlet  that  God  has  “fixed  his  canon  ’gainst  self- 
slaughter.” Would  you  believe  it,  my  dear  brother, 
in  this  city  they  actually  facilitate  suicide ! A race  of 
philosophers  has  arisen  in  the  last  fifty  years  who 
argue  that,  as  man  was  not  consulted  about  his  com- 
ing into  the  world,  he  has  a perfect  right  to  leave  it 
whenever  it  becomes  uncomfortable.  These  strange 


CJESAE’S  COLUMN. 


21 


arguments  were  supplemented  by  the  economists, 
always  a powerful  body  in  this  utilitarian  land,  and 
they  urged  that,  as  men  could  not  be  prevented  from 
destroying  themselves,  if  they  had  made  up  their 
minds  to  do  so,  they  might  just  as  well  shuffle  off  the 
mortal  coil  in  the  way  that  would  give  least  trouble 
to  their  surviving  fellow-citizens.  That,  as  it  was, 
they  polluted  the  rivers,  and  even  the  reservoirs  of 
drinking-water,  with  their  dead  bodies,,  and  put  the 
city  to  great  expense  and  trouble  to  recover  and  iden- 
tify them.  Then  came  the  humanitarians,  who  said 
that  many  persons,  intent  on  suicide,  but  knowing 
nothing  of  the  best  means  of  effecting  their  object, 
tore  themselves  to  pieces  with  cruel  pistol  shots  or 
knife  wounds,  or  took  corrosive  poisons,  which  sub- 
jected them  to  agonizing  tortures  for  hours  before 
death  came  to  their  relief ; and  they  argued  that  if  a 
man  nad  determined  to  leave  the  world  it  was  a mat- 
ter of  humanity  to  help  him  out  of  it  by  the  pleasant- 
est means  possible.  These  views  at  length  prevailed, 
and  now  in  all  the  public  squares  or  parks  they  have 
erected  handsome  houses,  beautifully  furnished,  with 
baths  and  bed-rooms.  If  a man  has  decided  to  die,  he 
goes  there.  He  is  first  photographed ; then  his  name, 
if  he  sees  fit  to  give  it,  is  recorded,  with  his  residence ; 
and  his  directions  are  taken  as  to  the  disposition  of 
his  body.  There  are  tables  at  which  he  can  write  his 
farewell  letters  to  his  friends.  A doctor  explains  to 
him  the  nature  and  effect  of  the  different  poisons,  and 
he  selects  the  kind  he  prefers.  He  is  expected  to  bring 
with  him  the  clothes  in  which  he  intends  to  be  cre- 
mated. He  swallows  a little  pill,  lies  down  upon  a 
bed,  or,  if  he  prefers  it,  in  his  coffln;  pleasant  music  is 
played  for  him ; he  goes  to  sleep,  and  wakes  np  on  the 


22 


CjESab’s  column. 


other  side  pf  the  great  line.  Every  day  hundreds  of 
people,  men  and  women,  perish  in  this  way ; and  they 
are  borne  off  to  the  great  furnaces  for  the  dead,  and 
consumed . The  authorities  assert  that  it  is  a marked 
improvement  over  the  old-fashioned  methods ; but  to 
my  mind  it  is  a shocking  combination  of  impiety  and 
mock-philanthropy.  The  truth  is,  that,  in  this  vast, 
over-crowded  city,  man  is  a drug, — a superfluity, — and 
I think  many  men  and  women  end  their  lives  out  of 
an  overwhelming  sense  of  their  own  insignificance ; — 
in  other  words,  from  a mere  weariness  of  feeling  that 
they  are  nothing,  they  become  nothing. 

I must  bring  this  letter  to  an  end,  but  before  re- 
tiring I shall  make  a visit  to  the  grand  parlors  of  the 
hotel.  You  suppose  I will  walk  there.  Not  at  all,  my 
dear  brother.  I shall  sit  down  in  a chair ; there  is  an 
electric  magazine  in  the  seat  of  it.  I touch  a spring, 
and  away  it  goes.  I guide  it  with  my  feet.  I drive  into 
one  of  the  great  elevators.  I descend  to  the  drawing- 
room floor.  I touch  the  spring  again,  and  in  a few 
moments  I am  moving  around  the  grand  salon,  steer- 
ing myself  clear  of  hundreds  of  similar  chairs,  occu- 
pied by  fine-looking  men  or  the  beautiful,  keen-eyed, 
unsympathetic  women  I have  described.  The  race 
has  grown  in  power  and  loveliness — fear  it  has  lost 
in  lovableness. 

Good-by.  With  love  to  all,  I remain  your  affec- 
tionate brother, 


Gabriel  Weltstein. 


CHAPTER  II. 


MY  ADVENTURE. 

My  Dear  Heinrich  : 

I little  supposed  when  I wrote  you  yesterday  that 
twenty-four  hours  could  so  completely'  change  my 
circumstances.  Then  I was  a dweller  in  the  palatial 
Darwin  Hotel,  luxuriating  in  all  its  magnificence. 
Now  I am  hiding  in  a strange  house  and  trembling  for 
my  liberty ; — but  I will  tell  you  all. 

Yesterday  morning,  after  I had  disposed  by 
sample  of  our  wool,  and  had  called  upon  the  assayer 
of  ores,  but  without  finding  him,  to  show  him  the 
specimens  of  our  mineral  discoveries,  I returned  to 
the  hotel,  and  there,  after  obtaining  directions  from 
one  of  the  clerks  at  the  “Bureau  of  Information,”  I 
took  the  elevated  train  to  the  great  Central  Park. 

I shall  not  pause  to  describe  at  length  the  splen- 
dors of  this  wonderful  place ; the  wild  beasts  roaming 
about  among  the  trees,  apparently  at  dangerous 
liberty,  but  really  inclosed  by  fine  steel  wire  fences, 
almost  invisible  to  the  eye ; the  great  lakes  full  of  the 
different  water  fowl  of  the  world ; the  air  thick  with 
birds  distinguished  for  the  sweetness  of  their  song  or 
the  brightness  of  their  plumage ; the  century-old  trees, 
of  great  size  and  artistically  grouped ; beautiful  chil- 
dren playing  upon  the  greensward,  accompanied  by 
nurses  and  male  servants ; the  whole  scene  constituting 
a holiday  picture.  Between  the  trees  everywhere  I 
saw  the  white  and  gleaming  statues  of  the  many 

*3 


24 


CJESAR’S  COLUMN. 


hundreds  of  great  men  and  women  who  have 
adorned  the  history  of  this  country  duringthe  last  two 
hundred  years — poets,  painters,  musicians,  soldiers, 
philanthropists,  statesmen. 

After  feasting  my  eyes  for  some  time  upon  this 
charming  picture  of  rural  beauty,  I left  the  Park. 
Soon  after  I had  passed  through  the  outer  gate, — 
guarded  by  sentinels  to  exclude  the  ragged  and 
wretched  multitude,  but  who  at  the  same  time  gave 
courteous  admission  to  streams  of  splendid  carriages, 
— I was  startled  by  loud  cries  of  “Look  out  there!”  1 
turned  and  saw  a sight  which  made  my  blood  run 
cold.  A gray-haired,  hump-backed  beggar,  clothed 
in  rags,  was  crossing  the  street  in  front  of  a pair  of 
handsome  horses,  attached  to  a magnificent  open  car- 
riage. The  burly,  ill-looking  flunkey  who,  clad  in 
gorgeous  livery,  was  holding  the  lines,  had  uttered  the 
cry  of  warning,  but  at  the  same  time  had  made  no 
effort  to  check  the  rapid  speed  of  his  powerful 
horses.  In  an  instant  the  beggar  was  down  under 
the  hoofs  of  the  steeds.  The  flunkey  laughed!  I 
was  but  a few  feet  distant  on  the  side-walk,  and,  quick 
as  thought,  I had  the  horses  by  their  heads  and  pushed 
them  back  upon  their  haunches.  At  this  moment  the 
beggar,  who  had  been  under  the  feet  of  the  horses, 
crawled  out  close  to  the  front  wheels  of  the  carriage ; 
and  the  driver,  indignant  that  anything  so  contempt- 
ible should  arrest  the  progress  of  his  magnificent 
equipage,  struck  him  a savage  blow  with  his  whip,  as 
he  was  struggling  to  his  feet.  I saw  the  whip  wind 
around  his  neck ; and,  letting  go  the  horses’  heads, 
who  were  now  brought  to  a stand-still,  I sprang  for- 
ward, and  as  the  whip  descended  for  a second  blow  I 
caught  it,  dragged  it  from  the  hand  of  the  miscreant. 


C^SAU’S  COLUMN. 


25 


and  with  all  my  power  laid  it  over  him.  Each  blow 
where  it  touched  his  flesh  brought  the  blood,  and  two 
long  red  gashes  appeared  instantaneously  upon  his 
face.  He  dropped  his  lines  and  shrieked  in  terror, 
holding  his  hands  up  to  protect  his  face.  Fortunately 
a crowd  had  assembled,  and  some  poorly  dressed  men 
had  seized  the  horses’ heads,  or  there  would  have  been 
a run-away.  As  I raised  my  hand  to  lash  the  brute 
again,  a feminine  shriek  reached  my  ears,  and  I be- 
came  aware  that  there  were  ladies  in  the  open  ba- 
rouche. My  sense  of  politeness  overcame  in  an  instant 
my  rage,  and  I stepped  back,  and,  taking  off  my  hat, 
began  to  apologize  and  explain  the  cause  of  the  diffi- 
culty. As  I did  so  I observed  that  the  occupants  of 
the  carriage  were  two  young  ladies,  both  strikingly 
handsome,  but  otherwise  very  unlike  in  appearance. 
The  one  nearest  me,  who  had  uttered  the  shrieks,  was 
about  twenty  years  of  age,  I should  think,  with 
aquiline  features,  and  black  eyes  and  hair ; every  detail 
of  the  face  was  peifect,  but  there  was  a bold,  common-  , 
place  look  out  of  the  bright  eyes.  Her  companion 
instantly  arrested  all  my  attention.  It  seemed  to  me 
I had  never  beheld  a more  beautiful  and  striking 
countenance.  She  was  younger,  by  two  or  three 
years,  than  her  companion ; her  complexion  was  fairer ; 
her  long  golden  hair  fell  nearly  to  her  waist,  enfolding 
her  like  a magniflcent,  shining  garment ; her  eyes  were 
blue  and  large  and  set  far  apart;  and  there  was  in 
them,  and  in  the  whole  contour  of  the  face,  a look  of 
honesty  and  dignity,  and  calm  intelligence,  rarely 
witnessed  in  the  countenance  of  woman.  She  did  not 
appear  to  be  at  all  alarmed ; and  when  I told  my 
story  of  the  driver  lashing  the  aged  beggar,  her  face 
lighted  up,  and  she  said,  with  a look  that  thrilled  me, 


26 


CESAR’S  COLUMN. 


and  in  a soft  and  gentle  voice:  “We  are  much  obliged 
to  you,  sir;  you  did  perfectly  right.” 

I was  about  to  reply,  when  I felt  some  one  tugging 
fiercely  at  my  coat,  and,  turning  around,  I was  sur- 
prised to  find  that  the  beggar  was  drawing  me  away 
from  the  carriage  by  main  force.  I was  astonished  also 
at  the  change  in  his  appearance.  The  aspect  of  decrepi- 
tude had  disappeared,  a green  patch  that  I had 
noticed  covering  one  of  his  eyes  had  fallen  off,  and 
his  black  eyes  shone  with  a look  of  command  and 
power  that  was  in  marked  contrast  with  his  gi’ay  hair, 
his  crooked  back,  and  his  rags. 

“Come,”  he  said,  in  a hoarse,  whisper,  “come 
.(uickly,  or  you  will  be  arrested  and  cast  into  prison.  ” 

“What  for?”  I asked. 

“I  will  tell  you  hereafter — look!” 

I looked  around  me  and  saw  that  a great  crowd 
had  collected  as  if  by  magic,  for  this  city  of  ten  mill- 
ions of  people  so  swarms  with  inhabitants  that  the 
slightest  excitement  will  assemble  a multitude  in  a 
few  minutes.  I noticed,  too,  in  the  midst  of  the  mob, 
a uniformed  policeman.  The  driver  saw  him  also,  and, 
recovering  his  courage,  cried  out,  “Arrest  him — ar- 
rest him.”  The  policeman  seized  me  by  the  collar. 
I observed  that  at  that  instant  the  beggar  whispered 
something  in  his  ear:  the  officer’s  hand  released  its 
hold  upon  my  coat.  The  next  moment  the  beggar  cried 
out,  “Back  I Back  I Look  out  I.  Dynamite  I ” The  crowd 
crushed  back  on  each  other  in  great  confusion ; and 
I felt  the  beggar  dragging  me  off,  repeating  his  cry  of 
warning — “Dynamite!  Dynamite!” — at  every  step, 
until  the  mob  scattered  in  wild  confusion,  and  I found 
myself  breathless  in  a small  alley.  “Come,  come,  ” cried 
my  companion,  “there  is  no  time  to  lose.  ^ Hurry, 


CESAR’S  COLUMN. 


27 


Aurry ! ” We  rushed  along,  for  the  manner  of  the  beg- 
gar inspired  me  with  a terror  I could  not  explain, 
until,  after  passing  through  several  back  streets  and 
small  alleys,  with  which  the  beggar  seemed  perfectly 
familiar,  we  emerged  on  a large  street  and  soon  took 
a corner  elevator  up  to  one  of  the  railroads  in  the  air 
which  I have  described.  After  traveling  for  two  or 
three  miles  we  exchanged  to  another  train,  and  from 
that  to  still  another,  threading  our  way  backward  and 
forward  over  the  top  of  the  great  city.  At  length,  as 
if  the  beggar  thought  we  had  gone  far  enough  to 
baffle  pursuit,  we  descended  upon  a bustling  business 
street,  and  paused  at  a corner ; and  the  beggar  ap- 
peared to  be  looking  out  for  a hack.  He  permitted  a 
dozen  to  pass  us,  however,  carefully  inspecting  the 
driver  of  each.  At  last  he  hailed  one,  and  we  took 
our  seats.  He  gave  some  whispered  directions  to  the 
driver,  and  we  dashed  off. 

“Throw  that  out  of  the  window,”  he  said. 

I followed  the  direction  of  his  eyes  and  saw  that  I 
still  held  in  my  hand  the  gold-mounted  whip  which  I 
had  snatched  from  the  hand  of  the  driver.  In  my  ex- 
citement I had  altogether  forgotten  its  existence,  but 
had  instinctively  held  on  to  it. 

“I  will  send  it  back  to  the  owner,”  I said. 

“No,  no;  throw  it  away:  that  is  enough  to  con- 
vict you  of  highway  robbery.” 

I started,  and  exclaimed : 

“Nonsense;  highway  robbery  to  whip  a black- 
guard?” 

“Yes.  You  stop  the  carriage  of  an  aristocrat;  you 
drag  a valuable  whip  out  of  the  hand  of  his 
coachman ; and  you  carry  it  off.  If  that  is  not  high- 
way robbery,  what  is  it?  Throw  it  away.” 


28 


CjESae’s  column. 


His  manner  was  imperative.  I dropped  the  whip 
out  of  the  window  and  fell  into  a brown  study.  I oc- 
casionally stole  a glance  at  m3'  strange  companion, 
who,  with  the  dress  of  extreme  poverty,  and  the  gray 
hair  of  old  age,  had  such  a manner  of  authority  and 
such  an  air  of  promptitude  and  decision. 

After  about  a half-hour’s  ride  we  stopped  at  ijhe 
corner  of  two  streets  in  front  of  a plain  but  respect- 
able-looking house.  It  seemed  to  be  in  the  older  part 
of  the  town.  My  companion  paid  the  driver  and  dis- 
missed him,  and,  opening  the  door,  we  entered. 

I need  not  say  that  I began  to  think  this  man  was 
something  more  than  a beggar.  But  why  this  dis- 
guise ? And  who  was  he  ? 


CHAPTEE  III. 

THE  beggar’s  home. 

The  HOtJSE  we  entered  was  furnished  with  a degree 
of  splendor  of  which  the  external  appearance  gave  no 
prophecy.  We  passed  up  the  stairs  and  into  a hand- 
some room,  hung  around  with  pictures,  and  adorned 
with  book-cases.  The  beggar  left  me. 

I sat  for  some  time  looking  at  my  surroundings, 
and  wondering  over  the  strange  course  of  events 
which  had  brought  me  there,  and  still  more  at  the  ac- 
tions of  my  mysterious  companion.  I felt  assured  now 
that  his  rags  were  simply  a disguise,  for  he  entered 
the  house  with  all  the  air  of  a master ; his  language 
was  well  chosen  and  correctly  spoken,  and  possessed 
those  subtle  tones  and  intonations  which  mark  an 
educated  mind.  I was  thinking  over  these  matters 
when  the  door  opened  and  a handsome  young  gentle- 
man, arrayed  in  the  height  of  the  fashion,  entered  the 
room.  I rose  to  my  feet  and  began  to  apologize 
for  my  intrusion  and  to  explain  that  I had  been 
brought  there  by  a beggar  to  whom  I had  rendered 
some  trifling  service  in  the  street.  The  young 
gentleman  listened,  with,  a smiling  face,  and  then,  ex- 
tending his  hand,  said : 

“I  am  the  beggar;  and  I do  now  what  only  the 
hurry  and  excitement  prevented  me  from  doing  before 
-—I  thank  you  for  the  life  j^ou  have  saved.  If  you 
had  not  come  to  my  rescue  I should  probably  have 
been  trampled  to  death  under  the  feet  of  those 


30 


CjESAR'S  column. 


vicious  horses,  or  sadly  beaten  at  least  by  that  brutal 
driver.” 

The  expression  of  my  face  doubtless  showed  my  ex- 
treme astonishment,  for  he  proceeded : 

“I  see  you  are  surprised;  but  there  are  many 
strange  things  in  this  great  city.  I was  disguised  for 
a particular  purpose,  which  I cannot  explain  to  you. 
But  may  I not  request  the  name  of  the  gentleman  to 
whom  I am  under  so  many  obligations?  Of  course,  if 
you  have  any  reasons  for  concealing  it,  consider  the 
question  as  not  asked.” 

“No,”  I replied,  smiling,  “I  have  no  concealments. 
My  name  is  Gabriel  Weltstein ; I live  in  the  new  state 
of  Uganda,  in  the  African  confederation,  in  the 
mountains  of  Africa,  near  the  town  of  Stanley;  and  I 
am  engaged  in  sheep-raising,  in  the  mountains.  I be- 
long to  a colony  of  Swiss,  from  the  canton  of  Uri,  who, 
led  by  my  grandfather,  settled  there  seventy  years 
ago.  I came  to  this  city  yesterday  to  see  if  I could 
not  sell  my  wool  directly  to  the  manufacturers,  and 
thus  avoid  the  extortions  of  the  great  Wool  Ring, 
which  has  not  only  our  country  but  the  w'hole  world 
in  its  grasp;  but  I find  the  manufacturers  are  tied  hand 
and  foot,  and  afraid  of  that  powerful  conibination ; 
they  do  not  dare  to  deal  with  me;  and  thus  I shall 
have  to  dispose  of  my  product  at  the  old  price.  It  is 
a shameful  state  of  affairs  in  a country  which  calls 
itself  free.” 

“Pardon  me  for  a moment,”  said  the  young 
gentleman,  and  left  the  room.  On  his  return  I 
resumed : 

“ But  now  that  I have  told  you  who  I am,  will  you 
be  good  enough  to  tell  me  something  about  yourself?  ” 

“Certainly,”  he  replied,  “and  with  pleasure.  I am 


C.t:SAR'S  COLUMN. 


31 


a native  of  this  city ; my  name  is  Maximilian  Petion ; 
by  profession  I am  an  attorney ; I live  in  this  house 
with  my  mother,  to  whom  I shall  soon  have  the 
pleasure  of  introducing  you.” 

“Thank  you,”  I replied,  still  studying  the  face  of 
my  new  acquaintance.  His  complexion  was  dark,  the 
eyes  and  hair  almost  black ; the  former  very  bright 
and  penetrating;  his  brow  was  high,  broad  and 
square ; his  nose  was  prominent,  and  there  was  about 
the  mouth  an  expression  of  firmness,  not  unmixed 
with  kindness.  Altogether  it  Avas  a face  to  inspire  re- 
spect and  confidence.  But  I made  up  my  mind  not  to 
trusttoo  much  to  appearances.  I could  not  forget  the 
transformation  which  I had  witnessed,  from  the  rags 
of  the  ancient  beggar  to  this  well-dressed  young 
gentleman.  I knew  that  the  criminal  class  were  much 
given  to  such  disguises.  I thought  it  better  there- 
fore to  ask  some  questions  that  might  throw  light 
upon  the  subject. 

“May  I inquire,”  I said,  “what  were  your  reasons 
for  hurrying  me  aw^ay  so  swiftly  and  mysteriously 
from  the  gate  of  the  Park?  ” 

“Because,”  he  replied,  “you  were  in  great  danger, 
and  you  had  rendered  me  a most  important  service.  I 
could  not  leave  you  there  to  be  arrested,  and  punished 
with  a long  period  of  imprisonment,  because,  follow- 
ing the  impulse  of  your  heart,  you  had  saved  my  life 
and  scourged  the  wretch  who  w'ould  have  driven  his 
horses  over  me.” 

“But  why  should  I be  punished  with  a long  term 
of  imprisonment?  In  my  own  country  the  act  I 
performed  w’ould  have  received  the  applause  of  every 
one.  Why  did  you  not  tell  me  to  throw  away  that 
whip  on  the  instant,  so  as  to  avoid  the  appearance  of 


32 


COLUMN. 


stealing  it,  and  then  remain  to  testify  in  my  behalf 
if  I had  been  arrested  ? ” 

“Then  you  do  not  know,”  he  replied,  “whose 
driver  it  was  you  horsewhipped?” 

“No,”  I said;  “how  should  I?  I arrived  here  but 
yesterday.” 

“That  was  the  carriage  of  Prince  Cabano,  the 
wealthiest  and  most  vindictive  man  in  the  city.  If 
you  had  been  taken  you  would  have  been  consigned 
to  imprisonment  for  probably  many  years.” 

“Many  years,”  I replied ; “ imprisoned  for  beating 
an  insolent  driver ! Impossible.  No  jury  would  con- 
vict me  of  such  an  offense.” 

“ Jury  !”he  said,  with  a bitter  smile;  “itis  plain  to 
see  you  are  a stranger  and  come  from  a newly  settled 
part  of  the  world,  and  know  nothing  of  our  modern 
civilization.  The  jury  would  do  whatever  Prince  Ca- 
bano desired  them  to  do.  Our  courts,  judges  and  juries 
are  the  merest  tools  of  the  rich.  The  image  of  justice 
has  slipped  the  bandage  from  one  eye,  and  now  uses 
her  scales  to  weigh  the  bribes  she  receives.  An  ordi- 
nary citizen  has  no  more  prospect  of  fair  treatment  in 
our  courts,  contending  with  a millionaire,  than  a new- 
born infant  would  have  of  life  in  the  den  of  a wolf.” 

“But,”  I replied,  rather  hotly,  “I  should  appeal 
for  justice  to  the  public  through  the  newspapers.” 

“The  newspapers!  ” he  said,  and  his  face  darkened 
as  he  spoke;  “ the  newspapers  are  simply  the  hired 
mouthpieces  of  power;  the  devil’s  advocates  of  mod- 
ern civilization ; their  influence  is  always  at  the  serv- 
ice of  the  highest  bidder ; it  is  their  duty  to  suppress 
or  pervert  the  truth,  and  they  do  it  thoroughly.  They 
are  paid  to  mislead  the  people  under  the  guise  of  de- 
fending them.  A century  ago  this  thing  began,  and 


CESAR’S  COLUMN. 


33 


it  has  gone  on,  growing  worse  and  worse,  until  now 
the  people  laugh  at  the  opinions  of  the  press,  and 
doubt  the  truth  even  of  its  reports  of  occurrences.” 

“ Can  this  be  possible?  ” I said. 

“Let  me  demonstrate  it  to  you,”  he  replied,  and, 
stepping  to  the  wall,  he  spoke  quietly  into  a telephone 
tube,  of  which  there  were  a number  ranged  upon  the 
wall,  and  said : 

“ Give  me  the  particulars  of  the  whipping  of  Prince 
Cabano’s  coachman,  this  afternoon,  at  the  south  gate 
of  Central  Park.” 

Almost  immediately  a bell  rang,  and  on  the  op- 
posite wall,  in  what  I had  supposed  to  be  a mirror, 
appeared  these  words : 

From  the  Evening  Guardian: 

A Hokrible  Outrage! 

Highway  Eobbery!“One  Thousand  Dollars  Eeward! 

This  afternoon,  about  three  o’clock,  an  event  transpired  at 
the  south  gate  of  Central  Park  which  shows  the  turbulent  and 
vicious  spirit  of  the  lower  classes,  and  reinforces  the  demand  we 
have  so  often  made  for  repressive  measures  and  a stronger  gov- 
ernment. 

As  the  carriage  of  our  honored  fellow-citizen  Prince  Cabano, 
containing  two  ladies,  members  of  his  family,  was  quietly  entering 
the  Park,  a tall,  powerful  ruffian,  apparently  a stranger,  with  long 
yellow  hair,  reaching  to  his  shoulders,  suddenly  grasped  a valuable 
gold-mounted  whip  out  of  the  hands  of  the  driver,  and,  because  he 
resisted  the  robbery,  beat  him  across  the  face,  inflicting  very  severe 
wounds.  The  horses  became  very  much  terrifled,  and  but  for  the 
fact  that  two  worthy  men,  John  Henderson  of  5222  Delavan 
Street,  and  William  Brooks  of  7322  Bismarck  Street,  seized  them 
by  the  head,  a terrible  accident  would  undoubtedly  have  occurred. 
Policeman  number  B 17822  took  the  villain  prisoner,  but  he 
knocked  the  guardian  of  the  law  down  and  escaped,  accompanied 
by  a ragged  old  fellow  who  seemed  to  have  been  his  accomplice.  It 
is  believed  that  the  purpose  of  the  thieves  was  to  rob  the  occupants 


34 


CmAR^S  COLUMN. 


of  the  carriage,  as  the  taller  one  approached  the  ladies,  but  just  then 
his  companion  saw  the  policeman  coming  and  gave  him  warning, 
and  they  fled  together.  Prince  Cabano  is  naturally  very  much 
incensed  at  this  outrage,  and  has  offered  a reward  of  one  thousand 
dollars  for  the  apprehension  of  either  of  the  ruffians.  They  have 
been  tracked  for  a considerable  distance  by  the  detectives;  but 
after  leaving  the  elevated  cars  all  trace  of  them  was  suddenly  and 
mysteriously  lost.  The  whip  was  subsequently  found  on  Bomba 
Street  and  identified.  Neither  of  the  criminals  is  known  to  the 
police.  The  taller  one  was  quite  young  and  fairly  well  dressed,  and 
not  ill-looking,  while  his  companion  had  the  appearance  of  a 
beggar,  and  seemed  to  be  about  seventy  years  of  age.  The  Chief  of 
Police  will  pay  liberally  for  any  information  that  may  lead  to 
the  arrest  of  the  robbers. 

“There,”  said  my  companion,  “what  do  you 
think  of  that?” 

I need  not  say  that  I was  paralyzed  with  this 
adroit  mingling  of  fact  and  falsehood.  I realized  for 
the  first  time  the  perils  of  my  situation.  I was  a 
stranger  in  the  great  city,  without  a friend  or  ac- 
quaintance, and  hunted  like  a felon ! While  all  these 
thoughts  passed  through  my  brain,  there  came  also 
a pleasing  fiashof  remembrance  of  that  fair  face,  and 
that  sweet  and  gentle  smile,  and  that  beaming  look 
of  gratitude  and  approval  of  my  action  in  whipping 
the  brutal  driver.  But  if  my  new  acquaintance  was 
right;  if  neither  courts  nor  juries  nor  newspapers 
nor  public  opinion  could  be  appealed  to  for  justice  or 
protection,  then  indeed  might  I be  sent  to  prison  as 
a malefactor,  for  a term  of  years,  for  performing  a 
most  righteous  act.  If  it  was  true,  and  I had  heard 
something  of  the  same  sort  in  my  far-away  African 
home,  that  money  ruled  everything  in  this  great 
country ; and  if  his  offended  lordship  desired  to  crush 
me,  he  could  certainly  do  so.  While  I was  buried  in 
these  refiections  I had  not  failed  to  notice  that  an 


C^SAU'S  COLUMN. 


35 


electric  bell  rang  upon  the  side  of  the  chamber  and  a 
small  box  opened,  and  the  young  gentleman  advanced 
and  took  from  the  box  a sheet  of  tissue  paper,  closely 
written.  I recognized  it  as  a telegram.  He  read  it 
carefully,  and  I noticed  him  stealing  glances  at  me, 
as  if  comparing  the  details  of  my  appearance  with 
something  written  on  the  paper.  When  he  finished 
he  advanced  toward  me,  with  a brighter  look  on  his 
face,  and,  holding  out  his  hand,  said : 

“I  have  already  hailed  you  as  my  benefactor,  my 
preserver ; permit  me  now  to  call  you  my  friend.” 

“Why  do  you  say  so?”  I asked. 

“Because,”  he  replied,  “I  now  know  that  every 
statement  you  made  to  me  about  yourself  is  literally 
true ; and  that  in  your  personal  character  you  deserve 
the  respect  and  friendship  of  all  men.  You  look  per- 
plexed. Let  me  explain.  You  told  me  some  little 
time  since  your  name  and  place  of  residence.  I be- 
long to  a society  which  has  its  ramifications  all  over 
the  world.  When  I stepped  out  of  this  room  I sent 
an  inquiry  to  the  town  near  which  you  reside,  and 
asked  if  such  a person  as  you  claimed  to  be  lived 
there ; what  was  his  appearance,  standing  and  char- 
acter, and  present  residence.  I shall  not  shock  your 
modesty  by  reading  the  reply  I have  just  received. 
You  will  pardon  this  distrust,  but  we  here  in  the  great 
city  are  suspicious,  and  properly  so,  of  strangers,  and 
even  more  so  of  each  other.  I did  not  know  but  that 
you  were  in  the  employment  of  the  enemies  of  our 
society,  and  sought  to  get  into  my  confidence  by 
rendering  me  a service, — for  the  tricks  to  which 
the  detectives  resort  are  infinite.  I now  trust  you 
implicitly,  and  you  can  command  me  in  every- 
thing.” 


36 


CESAR’S  COLUMN. 


I took  his  hand  warmly  and  thanked  him  cordially. 
It  was  impossible  to  longer  doubt  that  frank  and 
beaming  face. 

“ But,”  I said,  “ are  we  not  in  great  danger?  Will 
not  that  hackman,  for  the  sake  of  the  reward,  inform 
the  police  of  our  whereabouts?  ” 

“No!”  he  said;  “have  no  fears  upon  that  score. 
Did  you  not  observe  that  I permitted  about  a dozen 
hacks  to  pass  me  before  I hailed  the  one  that  brought 
us  here?  That  man  wore  on  his  dress  a mark  that 
told  me  he  belonged  to  our  Brotherhood.  He  knows 
that  if  he  betrays  us  he  will  die  within  twenty-four 
hours,  and  that  there  is  no  power  on  earth  could  save 
him ; if  he  fled  to  the  uttermost  ends  of  the  earth  his 
doom  would  overtake  him  with*  the  certainty  of  fate. 
So  have  no  uneasiness.  We  are  as  safe  here  as  if 
a standing  army  of  a hundred  thousand  of  our 
defenders  surrounded  this  house.” 

“Is  that  the  explanation,”  I asked,  “of  the  police- 
man releasing  his  grip  upon  my  coat?  ” 

“Yes,”  he  replied,  quietly. 

“Now,”  said  I,  “who  is  this  Prince  Cabano,  and 
how  does  he  happen  to  be  called  Prince  ? I thought 
your  Eepublic  eschewed  all  titles  of  nobility.” 

“ So  it  does,”  he  replied,  “ by  law.  But  we  have  a 
great  many  titles  which  are  used  socially,  by  courtesy. 
The  Prince,  for  instance,  when  he  comes  to  sign 
his  name  to  a legal  document,  writes  it  Jacob 
Isaacs.  But  his  father,  when  he  grew  exceedingly  rich 
and  ambitious,  purchased  a princedom  in  Italy  for  a 
large  sum,  and  the  government,  being  hard  up  for 
money,  conferred  the  title  of  Prince  with  the  estate. 
His  son,’ the  present  Isaacs,  succeeded,  of  course,  to 
his  estates  and  his  title.” 


CESAR’S  COLUMN. 


37 


“ ‘ Isaacs,’  ” I said,  “is  a Jewish  name? ” 

“ Yes,”  he  replied,  “the  aristocracy  of  the  world  is 
now  almost  altogether  of  Hebrew  origin.” 

“Indeed,”  I asked,  “how  does  that  happen?” 

“ Well,”  he  replied,  “it  was  the  old  question  of  the 
survival  of  the  fittest.  Christianity  fell  upon  the 
Jews,  originally  a race  of  agriculturists  and  shep- 
herds, and  forced  them,  for  many  centuries,  through 
the  most  terrible  ordeal  of  persecution  the  history  of 
mankind  bears  any  record  of.  Only  the  strong  of 
body,  the  cunning  of  brain,  the  long-headed,  the  per- 
sistent, the  men  with  capacity  to  live  where  a dog 
would  starve,  survived  the  awful  trial.  Like  breeds 
like ; and  now  the  Christian  world  is  paying,  in  tears 
and  blood,  for  the  sufferings  inflicted  by  their  bigoted 
and  ignorant  ancestors  upon  a noble  race.  When 
the  time  came  for  liberty  and  fair  play  the  Jew  was 
master  in  the  contest  with  the  Gentile,  who  hated 
and  feared  him. 

“ They  are  the  great  money-getters  of  the  world. 
They  rose  from  dealers  in  old  clothes  and  peddlers  of 
hats  to  merchants,  to  bankers,  to  princes.  They 
were  as  merciless  to  the  Christian  as  the  Christian 
had  been  to  them.  They  said,  with  Shylock : ‘ The 
villainy  you  teach  me  I will  execute;  and  it  shall  go 
hard  but  I will  better  the  instruction.’  The  ‘wheel 
of  fortune  has  come  full  circle;’  and  the  descendants  of 
the  old  peddlers  now  own  and  inhabit  the  palaces 
where  their  ancestors  once  begged  at  the  back  doors 
for  second-hand  clothes;  while  the  posterity  of  the 
former  lords  have  been,  in  many  cases,  forced  down 
into  the  swarming  misery  of  the  lower  classes.  This 
is  a sad  world,  and  to  contemplate  it  is  enough  to 
make  a man  a philosopher;  but  he  will  scarcely  know 


38 


C^SAWS  COLUMN. 


whether  to  belong  to  the  laughing  or  the  weeping 
school — ^whether  to  follow  the  example  of  Democritus 
or  Heraclitus.” 

“And  may  I ask,”  I said,  “what  is  the  nature  of 
your  society?  ” 

“I  cannot  tell  you  more  at  this  time,”  he  replied, 
“ than  that  it  is  a political  secret  society  having  a 
membership  of  millions,  and  extending  all  over  the 
world.  Its  purposes  are  the  good  of  mankind.  Some 
day,  I hope,  you  may  learn  more  about  it.  Come,”  he 
added,  “let  me  show  you  my  house,  and  introduce 
you  to  my  mother.” 

Touching  a secret  spring  in  the  wall,  a hidden  door 
flew  open,  and  we  entered  a small  room.  I thought  I 
had  gotten  into  the  dressing-room  of  a theater. 
Around  the  walls  hung  a multitude  of  costumes,  male 
and  female,  of  different  sizes,  and  suited  for  all  condi- 
tions of  life.  On  the  table  were  a collection  of  bottles, 
holding  what  I learned  were  hair  dyes  of  different 
colors;  and  there  was  also  an  assortment  of  wigs, 
beards  and  mustaches  of  all  hues.  I thought  I 
recognized  among  the  former  the  coarse  white  hair  of 
the  quondam  beggar.  I pointed  it  out  to  him. 

“Yes,”  he  said,  with  a laugh,  “I  will  not  be  able 
to  wear  that  for  some  time  to  come.” 

Upon  another  table  there  was  a formidable  array 
of  daggers,  pistols  and  guns;  and  some  singular-look- 
ing iron  and  copper  things,  which  he  told  me  were 
cartridges  of  dynamite  and  other  deadly  explosives. 

I realized  that  my  companion  was  a conspirator. 
But  of  what  kind?  I could  not  believe  evil  of  him. 
There  was  a manliness  and  kindliness  in  his  face  which 
forbade  such  a thought;  although  the  square  chin 
and  projecting  jaws  and  firm-set  mouth  indicated  a 


CJESAR’S  COLUMN. 


39 


nature  that  could  be  most  dangerous ; and  I noticed 
sometimes  a restless,  wild  look  in  his  eyes. 

I followed  him  into  another  room,  where  he  intro- 
duced me  to  a sweet-faced  old  lady,  with  the  same 
broad  brow  and  determined,  but  gentle,  mouth  which 
so  distinguished  her  son.  It  was  evident  that  there 
was  great  love  between  them,  although  her  face  wore 
a troubled  and  anxious  look,  at  times,  as  she  regarded 
him.  It  seemed  to  me  that  she  knew  he  was  engaged 
in  dangerous  enterprises. 

She  advanced  to  me  with  a smile  and  grasped  both 
my  hands  with  her  own,  as  she  said : 

‘ ‘ My  son  has  already  told  me  that  you  have  this  day 
rendered  him  and  me  an  inestimable  service.  I need 
not  say  that  I thank  you  with  all  my  heart.” 

I made  light  of  the  matter  and  assured  her  that 
I was  under  greater  obligations  to  her  son  than  he 
was  to  me.  Soon  after  we  sat  down  to  dinner,  a 
sumptuous  meal,  to  which  it  seemed  to  me  all  parts 
of  the  world  had  contributed.  We  had  much  pleas- 
ant conversation,  for  both  the  host  and  hostess  were 
persons  of  ripe  information.  In  the  old  days  our  an- 
cestors wasted  years  of  valuable  time  in  the  study  of 
languages  that  were  no  longer  spoken  on  the  earth; 
and  civilization  was  thus  cramped  by  the  shadow  of 
the  ancient  Koman  Empire,  whose  dead  but  sceptered 
sovereigns  still  ruled  the  spirits  of  mankind  from  their 
urns.  Now  every  hour  is  considered  precious  for  the 
accumulation  of  actual  knowdedge  of  facts  and  things, 
and  for  the  cultivation  of  the  graces  of  the  mind; 
so  that  mankind  has  become  wise  in  breadth  of 
knowledge,  and  sweet  and  gentle  in  manner.  I ex- 
pressed something  of  this  thought  to  Maximilian, 
^nd  he  replied : 


40 


CESAR’S  COLUMN. 


“ Yes ; it  is  the  greatest  of  pities  that  so  noble  and 
beautiful  a civilization  should  have  become  so  hollow 
and  rotten  at  the  core.” 

“Rotten  at  the  core!”  I exclaimed,  in  astonish- 
ment; “what  do  you  mean?” 

“ What  I mean  is  that  our  civilization  has  grown 
to  be  a gorgeous  shell ; a mere  mockery ; a sham ; 
outwardly  fair  and  lovely,  but  inwardly  full  of  dead 
men’s  bones  and  all  uncleanness.  To  think  that  man- 
kind is  so  capable  of  good,  and  now  so  cultured  and 
polished,  and  yet  all  above  is  cruelty,  craft  and  de- 
struction, and  all  below  is  suffering,  wretchedness,  sin 
and  shame.” 

“ What  do  you  mean?”  I asked. 

“That  civilization  is  a gross  and  dreadful  failure 
for  seven-tenths  of  the  human  family;  that  seven- 
tenths  of  the  backs  of  the  world  are  insufficiently 
clothed ; seven-tenths  of  the  stomachs  of  the  world 
are  insufficiently  fed ; seven-tenths  of  the  minds  of  the 
world  are  darkened  and  despairing,  and  fflled  with  bit- 
terness against  the  Author  of  the  universe.  It  is  piti- 
ful to  think  what  society  is,  and  then  to  think  what  it 
might  have  been  if  our  ancestors  had  not  cast  away 
their  magnificent  opportunities — had  not  thrown  them 
into  the  pens  of  the  swine  of  greed  and  gluttony.” 

“But,”  I replied,  “the  world  does  not  look  to  me 
after  that  fashion.  I have  been  expressing  to  my 
family  my  delight  at  viewing  the  vast  triumphs  of 
man  over  nature,  by  which  the  most  secret  powers  of 
the  universe  have  been  captured  and  harnessed  for  the 
good  of  our  race.  Why,  my  friend,  this  city  preaches 
at  every  pore,  in  every  street  and  alley,  in  every  shop 
and  factory,  the  greatness  of  humanity,  the  splendor 
of  civilization  I ” 


CJESATl’S  COLUMN. 


41 


“True,  my  friend,”  replied  Maximilian ; “but  you 
see  only  the  surface,  the  shell,  the  crust  of  life  in  this 
great  metropolis.  To-morrow  we  will  go  out  to- 
gether, and  I shall  show  you  the  fruits  of  our  modern 
civilization.  I shall  take  you,  not  upon  the  upper  deck 
of  society,  where  the  flags  are  flying,  the  breeze  blow- 
ing, and  the  music  playing,  but  down  into  the  darit 
and  stuffy  depths  of  the  hold  of  the  great  vessel,  where 
the  sweating  gnomes,  in  the  glare  of  the  furnace- 
heat,  furnish  the  power  which  drives  the  mighty 
ship  resplendent  through  the  seas  of  time.  We  will 
visit  the  Z7z2c7er-Wor7(f.” 

But  I must  close  for  to  night,  and  subscribe  my- 
self affectionately  your  brother, 

GABRIEL. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

THE  UNDER-WORLD. 

My  Dear  Heinrich: 

Since  I wrote  you  last  night  I have  been  through 
dreadful  scenes.  I have  traversed  death  in  life,  I 
have  looked  with  my  very  eyes  on  Hell.  I am  sick  at 
heart.  My  soul  sorrows  for  humanity. 

Max  (for  so  I have  come  to  call  my  new-found 
friend)  woke  me  very  early,  and  we  breakfasted  by 
lamp-light. 

Yesterday  he  had  himself  dyed  my  fair  locks  of  a 
dark  brown,  almost  black  hue,  and  had  cut  off  some 
of  my  hair’s  superfluous  length.  Then  he  sent  for  a 
tailor,  who  soon  arrayed  me  in  garments  of  the  latest 
fashion  and  most  perfect  fit.  Instead  of  the  singular- 
looking  mountaineer  of  the  day  before,  for  whom  the 
police  were  diligently  searching,  and  on  whose  head 
a reward  of  one  thousand  dollars  had  been  placed 
(never  before  had  my  head  been  valued  so  highly), 
there  was  nothing  in  my  appearance  to  distinguish 
me  from  the  thousands  of  other  gallant  young  gentle- 
men of  this  great  city. 

A carriage  waited  for  us  at  the  door.  We  chatted 
together  as  we  drove  along  through  the  quiet  streets. 

I asked  him : 

“Are  the  degraded,  and  even  the  vicious,  members 
ofj^our  Brotherhood?” 

“No ; not  the  criminal  class,”  he  replied,  “ for  there 
is  nothing  in  their  wretched  natures  on  which  you  can 


CJESAR’S  COLUMN. 


43 


build  confidence  or  trust.  Only  those  who  have  fiber 
enough  to  persist  in  labor,  under  conditions  which  so 
strongly  tend  to  drive  them  into  crime,  can  be  mem- 
bers of  our  Brotherhood.” 

“ May  I ask  the  number  of  your  membership?” 

“In  the  whole  world  they  amount  to  more  than 
one  hundred  millions.” 

I started  with  astonishment. 

“But  amid  such  numbers,”  I said,  “there  must 
certainly  be  some  traitors?” 

“True,  but  the  great  multitude  have  nothing  to 
tell.  They  are  the  limbs  and  members,  as  it  were,  of 
the  organization;  the  directing  intelligence  dwells 
elsewhere.  The  multitude  are  like  the  soldiers  of  an 
army ; they  will  obey  when  the  time  comes ; but  they 
are  not  taken  into  the  councils  of  war.” 

A half  hour’s  ride  brought  us  into  the  domain  of 
the  poor. 

An  endless  procession  of  men  and  women  with  pails 
and  baskets — small-sized  pails  and  smaller  baskets  — 
streamed  along  the  streets  on  their  way  to  work.  It 
was  not  yet  six  o ’clock . I observed  that  both  m en  an  d 
women  were  undersized,  and  that  they  all  very  much 
resembled  each  other;  as  if  similar  circumstances 
had  squeezed  them  into  the  same  likeness.  There 
was  no  spring  to  their  steps  and  no  laughter  in  their 
eyes ; all  were  spare  of  frame  and  stolid  or  hungry- 
looking.  The  faces  of  the  middle-aged  men  were  hag- 
gard and  wore  a hopeless  expression.  Many  of  them 
scowled  at  us,  with  a look  of  hatred,  as  we  passed  by 
them  ill  our  carriage.  A more  joyless,  sullen  crowd 
I never  beheld.  Street  after  street  they  unrolled  be- 
fore us;  there  seemed  to  be  millions  of  them.  They 
were  all  poorly  clad,  and  many  of  theip  in  rags,  The 


44 


CESAR'S  COLUMN. 


women,  with  the  last  surviving  instinct  of  the  female 
heart,  had  tried  to  decorate  themselves;  and  here  and 
there  I could  observe  a bit  of  bright  color  on  bonnet 
or  apron;  but  the  bonnets  represented  the  fashions 
of  ten  years  past,  and  the  aprons  were  too  often 
frayed  and  darned,  the  relics  of  some  former,  more 
opulent  owners.  There  were  multitudes  of  children, 
but  they  were  without  the  gambols  which  character- 
ize the  young  of  all  animals ; and  there  was  not  even 
the  chirp  of  a winter  bird  about  them ; their  faces 
were  prematurely  aged  and  hardened,  and  their  bold 
eyes  revealed  that  sin  had  no  surprises  for  them.  And 
every  one  of  these  showed  that  intense  look  which 
marks  the  awful  struggle  for  food  and  life  upon 
which  they  had  just  entered.  The  multitude  seemed, 
so  far  as  I could  judge,  to  be  of  all  nations  com- 
mingled— the  French,  German,  Irish,  English — Hun- 
garians, Italians,  Russians,  Jews,  Christians,  and 
even  Chinese  and  Japanese;  for  the  slant  eyes  of 
many,  and  their  imperfect,  Tartar-like  features,  re- 
minded me  that  the  laws  made  by  the  Republic,  in 
the  elder  and  better  days,  against  the  invasion  of  the 
Mongolian  hordes,  had  long  since  become  a dead 
letter. 

What  struck  me  most  was  their  incalculable  multi- 
tude and  their  silence.  It  seemed  to  me  that  I was 
witnessing  the  resurrection  of  the  dead;  and  that 
these  vast,  streaming,  endless  swarms  were  the  con- 
demned, marching  noiselessly  as  shades  to  unavoida- 
ble and  everlasting  misery.  They  seemed  to  me 
merely  automata,  in  the  hands  of  some  ruthless  and 
unrelenting  destiny.  They  lived  and  moved,  but  they 
were  without  heart  or  hope.  The  illusions  of  the 
imagination,  which  beckon  all  of  us  forward,  even 


CJESAIVS  COLUMN. 


45 


over  the  roughest  paths  and  tlirough  the  darkest 
valleys  and  shadows  of  life,  had  departed  fronx  the 
scope  of  their  vision.  They  knew  that  to-morrow 
could  bring  them  nothing  better  than  to-day — the 
same  shameful,  pitiable,  contemptible,  sordid  struggle 
for  a mere  existence.  If  they  produced  children  it  was 
reluctantly  or  unmeaningly;  for  they  knew  the 
wretches  must  tread  in  their  footsteps,  and  enter,  like 
them,  that  narrow,  gloomy,  high-walled  pathway, 
out  of  which  they  could  never  climb;  which  began 
almost  in  infancy  and  ended  in  a pauper’s  grave — 
nay,  I am  wrong,  not  even  in  a pauper’s  grave ; for 
they  might  have  claimed,  perhaps,  some  sort  of  own- 
ership over  the  earth  which  enfolded  them,  which 
touched  them  and  mingled  with  their  dust.  But  pub- 
lic safety  and  the  demands  of  science  had  long  ago 
decreed  that  they  should  be  whisked  off,  as  soon  as 
dead,  a score  or  two  at  a time,  and  swept  on  iron 
tram-cars  into  furnaces  heated  to  such  intense  white 
heat  that  they  dissolved,  crackling,  even  as  they 
entered  the  chamber,  and  rose  in  nameless  gases 
through  the  high  chimney.  That  towering  structure 
was  the  sole  memorial  monument  of  millions  of  them. 
Their  graveyard  was  the  air.  Nature  reclaimed  her 
own  with  such  velocity  that  she  seemed  to  grudge 
them  the  very  dust  she  had  lent  them  during  their 
wretched  pilgrimage.  The  busy,  toiling,  rushing, 
roaring,  groaning  universe,  big  with  young,  appeared 
to  cry  out;  “Away  with  them!  Away  with  them! 

. They  have  had  their  hour ! They  have  performed 
their  task.  Here  are  a billion  spirits  waiting  for  the 
substance  we  loaned  them.  The  spirits  are  bonndless 
in  number;  matter  is  scarce.  Away  with  them  I” 

I need  not  tell  you,  my  dear  brother,  of  all  the 


46 


CHAR’S  COLUMN. 


shops  and  factories  we  visited.  It  was  the  same  story 
everywhere.  Here  we  saw  exemplified,  in  its  full  per- 
fection, that  “iron  law  of  wages”  which  the  old  econ- 
omists spoke  of;  that  is  to  say,  the  reduction,  by 
competition,  of  the  wages  of  the  worker  to  the  least 
sum  that  will  maintain  life  and  muscular  strength 
enough  to  do  the  work  required,  with  such  little  sur- 
plus of  vitality  as  might  be  necessary  to  perpetuate 
the  wretched  race;  so  that  the  world’s  work  should 
not  end  with  the  death  of  one  starved  generation.  I do 
not  know  if  there  is  a hell  in  the  spiritual  universe,  but 
if  there  is  not,  one  should  certainly  be  created  for  the 
souls  of  the  men  who  originated,  or  justified,  or  en- 
forced that  damnable  creed.  It  is  enough,  if  nothing 
else,  to  make  one  a Christian,  when  he  remembers 
how  diametrically  opposite  to  the  teaching  of  the 
grand  doctrine  of  brotherly  love,  enunciated  by  the 
gentle  Nazarene,  is  this  devil’s  creed  of  cruelty  and 
murder,  with  all  its  steadily  increasing  world -horrors, 
before  which  to-day  the  universe  stands  appalled. 

Oh ! the  pitiable  scenes,  my  brother,  that  I have 
witnessed ! Eoom  after  room ; the  endless  succession 
of  the  stooped,  silent  toilers;  old,  young;  men, 
women,  children.  And  most  pitiable  of  all,  the  leering, 
shameless  looks  of  invitation  cast  upon  us  by  the 
women,  as  they  saw  two  well-dressed  men  pass  by 
them.  It  was  not  love,  nor  license,  nor  even  lust ; it 
was  degradation, — willing  to  exchange  everything 
for  a little  more  bread.  And  such  rooms — garrets, 
sheds — dark,  foul,  gloomy;  overcrowded;  with  such 
a stench  in  the  thick  air  as  made  us  gasp  when 
entering  it ; an  atmosphere  full  of  life,  hostile  to  the 
life  of  man.  Think,  my  brother,  as  you  sit  upon  your 
mountain  side;  your  gentle  sheep  feeding  around 


CESAR’S  COLUMN. 


47 


you ; breathing  the  exquisite  air  of  those  elevated  re- 
gions ; and  looking  off  over  the  mysterious,  ancient 
world,  and  the  great  river  valleys  leading  down  to 
that  marvelous  Nile-laud  afar,— land  of  temples, 
ruins,  pyramids,— cradle  of  civilization,  grave  of 
buried  empires,— think,  I say,  of  these  millions  con- 
demned to  live  their  brief,  hopeless  span  of  existence 
under  such  awful  conditions!  See  them  as  they 
eat  their  mid-day  meal.  No  delightful  pause 
from  pleasant  labor;  no  brightly  arrayed  table; 
no  laughing  and  loving  faces  around  a plenteous 
board,  with  delicacies  from  all  parts  of  the  world ; no 
agreeable  interchange  of  wisdom  and  wit  and  courtesy 
and  merriment.  No ; none  of  these.  Without  stop- 
ping in  their  work,  under  the  eyes  of  sullen  task-mas- 
ters, they  snatch  bites  out  of  their  hard,  dark  bread, 
like  wild  animals,  and  devour  it  ravenously.* 

Toil, toil, toil,  from  early  morn  until  late  at  night; 
then  home  they  swarm ; tumble  into  their  wretched 
beds ; snatch  a few  hours  of  disturbed  sleep,  battling 
with  vermin,  in  a polluted  atmosphere ; and  then  up 
again  and  to  work ; and  so  on,  and  on,  in  endless, 
mirthless,  hopeless  round ; until,  in  a few  years,  con- 
sumed with  disease,  mere  rotten  masses  of  painful 
wretchedness,  they  die,  and  are  wheeled  off  to  the 
great  furnaces,  and  their  bodies  are  eaten  up  by  the 
flames,  even  as  their  lives  have  been  eaten  up  by 
society. 

I asked  one  of  the  foremen  what  wages  these  men 

*The  testimony  taken  before  the  Parliamentary  Commission 
in  1888  shows  that  the  workers  in  the  “sweating”  shops  of  Lon- 
don worked  in  this  way,  even  at  that  time,  for  fifteen  and  sixteen 
hours  a day,  and  ate  their  meals  in  the  manner  described  in  the 
text. 


48 


C.ESAE’S  COLUMN. 


and  women  received.  He  told  me.  It  seemed  impos- 
sible that  human  life  could  be  maintained  upon  such 
a pittance.  I then  asked  whether  they  ever  ate  meat. 
“No,”  he  said,  “except  when  they  had  aratormouse.” 
“A  rat  or  mouse!”  I exclaimed.  “Oh  yes,”  he  replied, 
“the  rats  and  mice  were  important  articles  of  diet, — 
just  as  they  had  been  for  centuries  in  China.  The  little 
children,  not  yet  able  to  work,  fished  for  them  in  the 
sewers,  with  hook  and  line,  precisely  as  they  had 
done  a century  ago  in  Paris,  during  the  great  German 
siege.  A dog,”  he  added,  “was  a great  treat.  When 
the  authorities  killed  the  vagrant  hounds  there  was  a 
big  scramble  among  the  poor  for  the  bodies.” 

I was  shocked  at  these  statements ; and  then  I 
remembered  that  some  philosopher  had  argued  that 
cannibalism  had  survived  almost  to  our  own  times, 
in  the  islands  of  the  Pacific  Ocean,  because  they  had 
contained  no  animals  of  large  size  with  Avhich  the  in- 
habitants could  satisfy  the  dreadful  craving  of  the 
system  for  flesh-food ; and  hence  they  devoured  their 
captives. 

“Do  these  people  ever  marry?”  I inquired. 

“ Marry ! ” he  exclaimed,  with  a laugh ; “ why,  they 
could  not  afford  to  pay  the  fee  required  by  law.  And 
why  should  they  marry?  There  is  no  virtue  among 
them.  No,”  he  said,  “they  had  almost  gotten  down 
to  the  condition  of  the  Australian  savages,  who,  if 
not  prevented  by  the  police,  would  consummate  their 
animal-like  nuptials  in  the  public  streets.” 

Maximilian  told  me  that  this  man  was  one  of  the 
Brotherhood.  I did  not  wonder  at  it. 

From  the  shops  and  mills  of  honest  industry,  Maxi- 
milian led  me — it  was  still  broad  [daylight — into  the 
criminal  quarters.  We  saw  the  wild  beasts  in  their 


CESAR'S  COLUMN. 


49 


lairs ; in  the  iron  cages  of  cii’cumstance  which  civiliza- 
tion has  built  around  them,  from  which  they  too 
readily  break  out  to  desolate  their  fellow-creatures. 
But  here,  too,  were  the  fruits  of  misgovernment.  If  it 
were  possible  we  might  trace  back  from  yonder  robber 
and  murderer — a human  hyena — the  long  ancestral 
line  of  brutality,  until  we  see  it  starting  from  some 
poor  peasant  of  the  Middle  Ages,  trampled  into  crime 
under  the  feet  of  feudalism.  The  little  seed  of  weak- 
ness or  wickedness  has  been  carefully  nursed  by  so- 
ciety, generation  after  generation,  until  it  has  blos- 
somed at  last  in  this  destructive  monster.  Civilization 
has  formulated  a new  variety  of  the  genus  homo — 
and  it  must  inevitably  perpetuate  its  kind. 

The  few  prey  on  the  many ; and  in  turn  a few  of 
the  many  prpy  upon  all.  These  are  the  brutal  viola- 
tors of  justice,  who  go  to  prison,  or  to  the  scaffold, 
for  breaking  through  a code  of  laws  under  which 
peaceful  but  universal  injustice  is  wrought.  If  there 
were  enough  of  these  outlaws  they  might  establish  a 
system  of  jurisprudence  for  the  world  under  which  it 
would  be  lawful  to  rob  and  murder  by  the  rule  of  the 
strong  right  hand,  but  criminal  to  reduce  millions  to 
wretchedness  by  subtle  and  cunning  arts;  and,  hoity- 
toity,  the  prisons  would  change  their  tenants,  and 
the  brutal  plunderers  of  the  few  would  give  place  to 
the  cultured  spoilers  of  the  many. 

And  when  you  come  to  look  at  it,  my  brother,  how 
shall  we  compare  the  condition  of  the  well-to-do  man, 
who  has  been  merely  robbed  of  his  watch  and  purse, 
even  at  the  cost  of  a broken  head,  which  will  heal  in 
a few  days,  with  the  awful  doom  of  the  poor  multitude, 
who  from  the  cradle  to  the  grave  work  without  joy 
and  live  without  hope?  Who  is  there  that  would 
4 


50 


CESAR’S.  COLUMN. 


take  back  bis  watch  and  purse  at  the  cost  of  chang- 
ing places  with  one  of  these  wretches? 

And  who  is  there  that,  if  the  choice  were  presented 
to  him,  would  not  prefer  instant  death,  which  is  but 
a change  of  conditions,  a flight  from  world  to  world, 
or  at  worst  annihilation,  rather  than  to  be  hurled 
into  the  living  tomb  which  I have  depicted,  there  to 
grovel  and  writhe,  pressed  down  by  the  sordid  mass 
around  him,  until  death  comes  to  his  relief? 

And  so  it  seems  to  me  that,  in  the  final  analysis 
of  reason,  the  great  criminals j’of  the  world  are  not 
these  wild  beasts,  who  break  through  all  laws,  whose 
selfishness  takes  the  form  of  the  bloody  knife,  the  fire- 
brand, or  the  bludgeon ; but  those  who,  equally  selfish, 
coi-rupt  the  fountains  of  government  and  create  laws 
and  conditions  by  which  millions  suffer,  and  out  of 
which  these  murderers  and  robbers  naturally  and  un- 
avoidably arise. 

But  I must  bring  this  long  letter  to  a conclusion, 
and  subscribe  myself,  with  love  to  all. 

Your  affectionate  brother, 

GABRIEL. 


CHAPTER  V. 

ESTELLA  WASHINGTON. 

My  Dear  Heinrich: 

One  morning  after  breakfast,  Max  and  I were 
seated  intbe  library,  enjoying  our  matutinal  cigars, 
when,  the  conversation  flagging,  I asked  Maximilian 
whether  he  had  noticed  the  two  young  ladies  who 
were  in  the  Prince  of  Cabano’s  carriage  the  morning  I 
whipped  the  driver.  He  replied  that  he  had  not  ob- 
served them  particularly,  as  he  was  too  much  excited 
and  alarmed  for  my  safety  to  pay  esp*eeial  attention 
to  anything  else;  but  he  had  seen  that  there  were  two 
young  women  in  the  barouche,  and  his  glance  had 
shown  him  they  were  both  handsome. 

“Have  you  any  idea  who  they  were?”  I asked 
after  a pause,  for  I shrank  from  revealing  the  interest 
I took  in  one  of  them. 

“No,”  said  he,  indifferently;  “probably  a couple 
of  the  Prince’s  mistresses.” 

The  word  stung  me  like  an  adder ; and  I half  rose 
from  my  chair,  my  face  suffused  and  my  eyes  indignant. 

“Why,  what  is  the  matter?”  asked  Maximilian; 
“I  hope  I have  said  nothing  to  offend  you.” 

I fell  back  in  my  chair,  ashamed  of  the  exhibition 
of  feeling  into  which  I had  been  momentarily  be- 
trayed, and  replied : 

“Oh,  no;  but  I am  sure  you  are  wrong.  If  you 
had  looked,  for  but  a moment,  at  the  younger  of  the 
two,  you  would  never  have  made  such  a remark.” 


62 


CESAR'S  COLUMN. 


“■  I meant  no  harm,”  he  answered,  “ but  the  Prince 
is  a widower;  he  has  a perfect  harem  in  his  palace; 
he  has  his  agents  at  work  everywhere  buying  up 
handsome  women ; and  when  I saw  two  such  in  his 
carriage,  I naturally  came  to  the  conclusion  that 
they  were  of  that  character.” 

“ Buying  up  women ! ” I exclaimed ; “what  are  you 
talking  about  ? This  is  free  America,  and  the  twen- 
tieth century.  Do  you  dream  that  it  is  a Moham- 
medan land  ? ” 

“It  isn’t  anything  half  so  good,”  he  retorted;  “it 
is  enslaved  America;  and  the  older  we  grow  the  worse 
for  us.  There  was  a golden  age  once  in  America — an 
age  of  liberty ; of  comparatively  equal  distribution  of 
wealth;  of  democratic  institutions.  Now  we  have 
but  the  shell  and  semblance  of  all  that.  We  are  a 
Kepublic  only  in  name;  free  only  informs.  Moham- 
medanism— and  we  must  do  the  Arabian  prophet  the 
justice  to  say  that  he  established  a religion  of  temper- 
ance and  cleanliness,  without  a single  superstition — 
never  knew,  in  its  worst  estate,  a more  complete  and 
abominable  despotism  than  that  under  which  we  live. 
And  as  it  would  be  worse  to  starve  to  death  in  sight  of 
the  most  delicious  viands  than  in  the  midst  of  a food- 
less desert,  so  the  very  assertions,  constantly  dinned 
in  our  ears  by  the  hireling  newspapers,  that  we  are 
the  freest  people  on  earth,  serve  only  to  make  our 
slavery  more  bitter  and  unbearable.  But  as  to  the 
buying  up  of  women  for  the  harems  of  the  w'ealthy, 
that  is  an  old  story,  my  dear  friend.  More  than  a 
century  ago  the  editor  of  a leading  journal  in  London 
was  imprisoned  for  exposing  it.  The  virtuous  com- 
munity punished  the  man  who  protested  against  the 
sin,  and  took  the  sinners  to  its  loving  bosom.  And 


CjaSAR’S  COLUMN. 


in  this  last  century  matters  have  grown  evei’y  day 
worse  and  worse.  Starvation  overrides  all  morali- 
ties; the  convictions  of  the  mind  give  way  to  the 
necessities  of  the  body.  The  poet  said  long  ago : 

“‘Women  are  not 

In  their  best  fortunes  strong,  but  want  will  perjure 
The  ne’er-touched  vestal.’ 

“But  he  need  not  have  confined  this  observation 
to  women.  The  strongest  resolves  of  men  melt  in  the 
fire  of  want  like  figures  of  wax.  It  is  simply  a ques- 
tion of  increasing  the  pressure  to  find  the  point  where 
virtue  inevitably  breaks.  Morality,  in  man  or  woman, 
is  a magnificent  fiower  which  blossoms  only  in  the 
rich  soil  of  prosperity : impoverish  the  land  and  the 
bloom  withers.  If  there  are  cases  that  seem  to  you 
otherwise,  it  is  simply  because  the  pressure  has  not 
been  great  enough;  sufficient  nourishment  has  not 
yet  been  withdrawn  from  the  soil.  Dignity,  decency, 
honor,  fade  away  when  man  or  woman  is  reduced  to 
shabby,  shameful,  degrading,  cruel  wretchedness.  Be- 
fore the  clamors  of  the  stomach  the  soul  is  silent.” 

“I  cannot  believe  that,”  I replied;  “look  at  the 
martyrs  who  have  perished  in  the  fiames  for  an 
opinion.” 

“Yes,”  he  said,  “it  is  easy  to  die  in  an  ecstasy  of 
enthusiasm  for  a creed,  with  all  the  world  looking  on ; 
to  exchange  life  for  eternal  glory ; but  put  the  virgin, 
who  would  face  without  shrinking  the  fiames  or  the 
wild  beasts  of  the  arena,  into  some  wretched  garret, 
in  some  miserable  all6y,  surrounded  by  the  low,  the 
ignorant,  the  vile;  close  every  avenue  and  prospect  of 
hope ; shut  off  every  ennobling  thought  or  sight  or 
deed ; and  then  subject  the  emaciated  frame  to  end- 


54 


CESAR’S  COLUMN. 


less  toil  and  hopeless  hunger,  and  the  very  fibers  of 
the  soul  will  rot  under  the  debasing  ordeal;  and 
there  is  nothing  left  but  the  bare  animal,  that  must 
be  fed  at  whatever  sacrifice.  And  remember,  my 
dear  fellow,  that  chastity  is  a flower  of  civilization. 
Barbarism  knows  nothing  of  it.  The  woman  with 
the  least  is,  among  many  tribes,  most  highly  es- 
teemed, and  sought  after  by  the  young  men  for 
wedlock.” 

“My  dear  Maximilian,”  I said,  “these  are  debas- 
ing views  to  take  of  life.  Purity  is  natural  to  woman. 
You  will  see  it  oftentimes  among  savages.  But,  to 
recur  to  the  subject  we  were  speaking  of.  I feel  very 
confident  that  the  younger  of  those  two  women  I saw 
in  that  carriage  is  pure.  God  never  placed  such  a 
majestic  and  noble  countenance  over  a corrupt  soul. 
The  face  is  transparent ; the  spirit  looks  out  of  the 
great  eyes;  and  it  is  a spirit  of  dignity,  nobleness, 
grace  and  goodness.” 

“Why,”  said  he,  laughing,  “the  barbed  arrow  of 
Master  Cupid,  my  dear  Gabriel,  has  penetrated  quite 
through  all  the  plates  of  your  philosophy.” 

“I  will  not  confess  that,”  I replied;  “but  I will  ad- 
mit that  I would  like  to  know  something  more  about 
that  young  lady,  for  I never  saw  a face  that  inter- 
ested me  half  so  much.” 

“Now,”  said  he,  “see  what  it  is  to  have  a friend.  I 
can  find  out  for  you  all  that  is  known  about  her.  We 
have  members  of  our  society  in  the  household  of  every 
rich  man  in  New  York.  I will  first  find  out  who  she  is. 
I will  ask  the  Master  of  the  Servants,  who  is  a member 
of  our  Brotherhood,  who  were  the  two  ladies  out  rid- 
ing at  the  time  of  our  adventure.  I can  communicate 
with  him  in  cipher.” 


CESAR’S  COLUMN. 


55 


He  went  to  the  wall;  touched  a’spring;  a door 
flew  open;  a receptacle  containing  pen,  ink  and 
paper  appeared ; he  wrote  a message,  placed  it  in  an 
interior  cavity,  which  connected  with  a pneumatic 
tube,  rang  a bell,  and  in  a few  minutes  another  bell 
rang,  and  he  withdrew  from  a similar  cavity  a written 
message.  He  read  out  to  me  the  following : 

“The  elder  lady.  Miss  Frederika  Bowers;  the 
younger.  Miss  Estella  Washington;  both  members  of 
the  Prince  of  Cabano’s  household.” 

“ Estella  Washington,”  I repeated ; “ a noble  name. 
Can  you  tell  me  anything  about  her  ? ” 

‘^Certainly,”  he  replied;  “we  have  a Bureau  of  In- 
quiry connected  with  our  society,  and  we  possess 
the  most  complete  information,  not  only  as  to  our 
own  members,  but  as  to  almost  every  one  else  in  the 
community  of  any  note.  Wait  a moment.” 

He  opened  the  same  receptacle  in  the  wall,  wrote 
a few  words  on  a sheet  of  paper,  and  dispatched  it  by 
the  pneumatic  tube  to  the  central  office  of  that  dis- 
trict, whence  it  was  forwarded  at  once  to  its  address. 
It  was  probably  fifteen  minutes  before  the  reply  ar- 
rived. It  read  as  follows : 

Miss  Estella  Washington.— Aged  eighteen.  Appearance:  Per- 
son tall  and  graceful ; complexion  fair ; eyes  blue ; hair  long  and 
golden;  face  handsome.  Pedigree:  A lineal  descendant  of  Law- 
rence Washington,  brother  of  the  first  President  of  the  Republic. 
Parents:  William  Washington  and  Sophia,  his  wife.  Father,  a 
graduate  of  the  University  of  Virginia;  professor  of  Indo-Euro- 
pean literature  for  ten  years  in  Harvard  University.  Grandfather, 
Lawrence  Washington,  a judge  of  the  Supreme  Court  of  the  United 
States  for  fifteen  years.  Sophia,  mother  of  Estella,  nee  Wain- 
wright,  an  accomplished  Greek  and  Sanserit  scholar,  daughter  of 
Professor  Elias  Wainwright,  who  occupied  the  chair  of  psychologi- 
cal science  in  Yale  College  for  twenty  years.  Families  of  both 


56 


CmAR'S  COLUMN. 


parents  people  of  great  learning  and  social  position,  but  not 
wealthy  in  any  of  the  branches.  History:  Father  died  when  Estell a 
was  eight  years  old,  leaving  his  family  poor.  Her  mother,  after  a 
hard  struggle  with  poverty,  died  two  years  later.  Estell  a,  then 
ten  years  old,  was  adopted  by  Maria,  widow  of  George  Washington, 
brother  of  Estella’s  father,  who  had  subsequently  married  one 
Ezekiel  Plunkett,  who  is  also  dead.  Maria  Plunkett  is  a woman  of 
low  origin  and  sordid  nature,  with  a large  share  of  cunning;  she 
lives  at  No.  2682  Grand  Avenue.  She  had  observed  that  Estella 
gave  promise  of  great  beauty,  and  as  none  of  the  other  relatives 
put  in  a claim  for  the  child,  she  took  possession  of  her,  with 
intent  to  educate  her  highly,  improve  her  appearance  by  all  the 
arts  known  to  such  women,  and  eventually  sell  her  for  a large  sum 
to  some  wealthy  aristocrat  as  a mistress ; believing  that  her  hon- 
orable descent  would  increase  the  price  which  her  personal  charms 
would  bring.  On  the  5th  day  of  last  month  she  sold  her,  for  $5,000, 
to  the  Master  of  the  Servants  of  the  so-called  Prince  of  Cabano;  and 
she  was  taken  to  his  house.  Estella,  who  is  quite  ignorant  of  the 
wickedness  of  the  world,  or  the  true  character  of  her  aunt,  for 
whom  she  entertains  a warm  feeling  of  gratitude  and  affection,  be- 
lieves that  she  is  to  serve  as  lady-companion  for  Miss  Frederika 
Bowers,  the  favorite  mistress  of  the  Prince,  but  whom  Estella 
supposes  to  be  his  niece. 

You  can  ima^ne,  my  dear  brother — for  you  have 
a kind  and  sensitive  heart,  and  love  your  wife — the 
pangs  that  shot  through  me,  and  distorted  my  very 
soul,  as  I listened  to  this  dreadful  narrative.  Its  calm, 
dispassionate,  official  character,  while  it  confirmed  its 
truth,  added  to  the  horrors  of  the  awful  story  of  crime ! 
Think  of  it!  a pure,  beautiful,  cultured,  confiding 
girl,  scarcely  yet  a woman,  consigned  to  a terrible 
fate,  by  one  whom  she  loved  and  trusted.  And  the 
lurid  light  it  threw  on  the  state  of  society  in  which 
such  a sacrifice  could  be  possible  I I forgot  every  pre- 
tense of  indifference,  which  I had  been  trying  to  main- 
tain before  Maximilian,  and,  springing  up,  every 
fiber  quivering,  I cried  out : 


CMSAR’S  COLUMN. 


57 


“ She  must  be  saved ! ” 

Maximilian,  too,  although  colder-blooded,  and 
hardened  by  contact  with  this  debased  age,  was  also 
stirred  to  his  depths ; his  face  was  flushed,  and  he 
seized  me  by  the  hand.  He  said : 

“I  will  help  you,  my  friend.” 

“ But  what  can  we  do  ? ” I asked. 

“We  should  see  her  at  once,”  he  replied,  “and,  if  it 
is  not  yet  too  late,  carry  her  away  from  that  damn- 
able place,  that  house  of  hell,  and  its  devilish  owner, 
who  preys  on  innocence  and  youth.  We  have  one 
thing  in  our  favor : the  Master  of  the  Servants,  who 
bought  Estella,  is  the  same  person  who  answered  my 
flrst  message.  He  belongs,  as  I told  you,  to  our 
Brotherhood.  He  is  in  my  power.  He  will  give  us  ac- 
cess to  the  poor  girl,  and  will  do  whatever  is  necessary 
to  be  done.  Come,  let  us  go !” 

Those  thin.  Arm  lips  were  more  firmly  set  than 
ever ; the  handsome  eyes  flashed  with  a flerce  light ; 
he  hurried  for  an  instant  into  his  secret  room. 

“Take  this  magazine  pistol,”  he  said,  “and  this 
knife,”  handing  me  a long  bowie-knife  covered  with  a 
handsome,  gold-embossed  sheath ; “ we  are  going  into 
a den  of  infamy  where  everything  is  possible.  Never 
unsheathe  that  knife  until  you  are  compelled  to  use  it, 
for  a scratch  from  it  is  certain  and  instant  death ; it 
is  charged  with  the  most  deadly  poison  the  art  of  the 
chemist  has  been  able  to  produce;  the  secret  is  known 
only  to  our  Brotherhood ; the  discoverer  is  an  Italian 
professor,  a member  of  our  society.” 


CHAPTER  VI, 

THE  INTERVIEW. 

Mounting  to  one  of  the  electrical  railroads,  we 
were  soon  at  the  house  of  the  Prince.  Passing  around 
to  the  servants’  entrance  of  the  palace,  Maximilian 
sent  in  his  card  to  the  Master  of  the  Servants,  who 
soon  appeared,  bowing  deferentially  to  my  friend.  We 
were  ushered  into  his  private  room.  Maximilian  first 
locked  the  door;  he  then  examined  the  room  carefully, 
to  see  if  there  was  any  one  hidden  behind  the  tapestry 
or  furniture ; for  the  room,  like  every  part  of  the  pal- 
ace, was  furnished  in  the  most  lavish  and  extravagant 
style.  Satisfied  with  his  search,  he  turned  to  Ru- 
dolph, as  the  Master  of  the  Servants  was  called,  and 
handed  him  the  message  he  had  received,  which  gave 
the  history  of  Estella. 

‘‘Read  it,”  he  said. 

Rudolph  read  it  with  a troubled  countenance. 

“Yes,”  he  said,  “I  am  familiar  with  most  of  the 
facts  here  stated,  and  believe  them  all  to  be  true. 
What  would  you  have  me  do  ?” 

“First,”  said  Maximilian,  “we  desire  to  know  if 
Estella  is  still  in  ignorance  of  the  purpose  for  which 
she  was  brought  here.” 

“Yes,”  he  replied;  “Frederika  is  jealous  of  her,  as 
I can  see,  and  has  contrived  to  keep  her  out  of  the 
Prince’s  sight.  She  has  no  desire  to  be  supplanted  by 
a younger  and  fairer  woman.” 

“God  be  praised  for  that  jealousy,”  exclaimed 


CESAR'S  COLUMN. 


59 


Maximilian.  “ We  must  see  Estella ; canyon  manage 
it  for  us?” 

“ Yes,”  he  said,  “ I will  bring  her  here.  I know  she 
is  in  the  palace.  I saw  her  but  a few  moments  since. 
Wait  for  me.” 

“Stop,”  said  Maximilian,  “ have  you  the  receipt 
for  the  $5,000  signed  by  Mrs.  Plunkett?” 

“ No ; but  I can  get  it.” 

“Do  so,  pray;  and  when  you  bring  her  here  intro- 
duce me  to  her  as  Mr.  Martin,  and  my  friend  here  as 
Mr.  Henry.  She  may  refuse  our  assistance,  and  we 
must  provide  against  the  revenge  of  the  Prince.” 

“Iwill  do  as  you  command,”  replied  Rudolph,  who 
acted  throughout  as  if  he  felt  himself  in  the  presence 
of  a superior  officer. 

As  we  sat  waiting  his  return  I was  in  a state  of 
considerable  excitement.  Delight,  to  know  that  she 
was  still  the  pure  angel  I had  worshiped  in  my 
dreams,  contended  with  trepidation  as  I felt  I must 
soon  stand  in  her  presence. 

The  door  opened  and  Rudolph  entered;  behind  him 
came  the  tall  form  of  the  beautiful  girl  I had  seen  in 
the  carriage : she  seemed  to  me  fairer  than  ever.  Her 
eyes  first  fell  upon  me;  she  started  and  blushed.  It 
was  evident  she  recognized  me;  and  I fancied  the 
recognition  was  not  unpleasant  to  her.  She  then 
turned  to  Maximilian  and  then  to  Rudolph,  who 
introduced  us  as  we  had  requested.  I offered  her  a 
chair.  She  sat  down,  evidently  astonished  at  such  an 
interview,  and  yet  entirely  mistress  of  herself.  Af- 
ter a moment’s  pause, — for  Maximilian,  as  he  told  me 
afterwards,  was  too  bewildered  with  her  splendid 
beauty  to  speak,— she  said,  in  a sweet  and  gentle 
voice : 


60 


CJESAE’S  COLUMN. 


“ Mr.  Rudolph  tells  me  that  you  desire  to  speak  to 
me  on  ma  tters  of  importance.” 

At  a sign  from  Maximilian  Rudolph  closed  and 
locked  the  door.  She  started,  and  it  seemed  to  me 
that  her  eyes  turned  to  me  with  more  confidence  than 
to  either  of  the  others. 

•‘Miss  Washington,”  said  Maximilian,  “it  is  true 
we  desire  to  speak  with  you  on  matters  of  the  great- 
est moment  to  yourself.  But  we  shall  say  things  so 
surprising  to  you,  so  harsh  and  cruel,  so  utterly  in 
conflict  with  your  present  opinions,  that  I scarce 
know  how  to  begin.” 

She  had  grown  paler  during  this  speech,  and  I then 
said: 

“Be  assured  that  nothing  but  the  profound  re- 
spect we  feel  for  you,  and  the  greatest  desire  to  serve 
you,  and  save  you  from  ruin,  could  have  induced  us 
to  intrude  upon  you.” 

Her  face  showed  her  increasing  alarm ; she  placed 
her  hand  on  her  heart,  as  if  to  still  its  beatings,  and 
then,  with  constrained  dignity,  replied : 

“Ido  not  understand  you,  gentlemen.  Ido  not 
know  what  the  dangers  are  to  which  you  allude. 
Can  you  not  speak  plainly?  ” 

“My  friend  here,  Mr.  Henry,”  said  Maximilian, 
looking  at  me,  “you  have,  I perceive,  already  recog- 
nized.” 

“Yes,”  she  said,  with  another  blush,  “if  I am  not 
mistaken,  he  is  the  gentleman  who  saved  the  life  of  a 
poor  beggar,  some  days  since,  and  punished,  as  he 
deserved,  our  insolent  driver.  Miss  Frederika,  the 
Prince’s  niece,  has,  at  my  request,  refused  since  that 
time  to  permit  him  to  drive  us  when  we  go  out  together, 
as  we  often  do.  I am  glad  to  thank  you  again,”  she 


CJESAR'S  COLUMN. 


61 


said,  with  acharniiiigly  ingenuous  aii‘,  for  your  noble 
act  in  saving  that  poor  man’s  life.” 

“It  was  nothing,”  I said,  “but  if  the  service  was 
of  any  value  it  has  been  a thousand  times  repaid  by 
your  kind  words.” 

“You  can  easily  imagine,”  said  Maximilian,  “that 
my  friend  here,  after  that  interview,  was  naturally 
curious  to  find  out  something  about  you.” 

She  blushed  and  cast  down  her  eyes;  and  the 
thought  flashed  across  my  mind  that  perhaps  she 
had  been  likewise  curious  to  find  out  something 
about  me. 

“I  am  a member,”  said  Maximilian,  “of  a secret 
society.  We  have  a ‘Bureau  of  Inquiry’ whose  business 
it  is  to  collect  information,  for  the  use  of  the  society, 
concerning  every  person  of  any  note.  This  informa- 
tion is  carefully  tabulated  and  preserved,  and  added 
to  from  day  to  day;  so  that  at  any  moment  it  is 
subject  to  the  call  of  our  officers.  When  my  friend 
desired  to  know  something  about  you”  (here  the 
blue,  wondering  eyes  were  cast  down  again),  “1  sent 
a message  to  our  Bureau  of  Inquiry,  and  received  a 
reply  which  I have  here.  I fear  to  show  it  to  you. 
The  shock  will  be  too  great  to  learn  in  a moment  the 
utter  baseness  of  one  in  whom  you  have  trusted.  I 
fear  you  have  not  the  courage  to  endure  such  a blow; 
and  at  the  same  time  I know  of  no  better  way  to  com- 
municate to  your  purity  and  innocence  the  shocking 
facts  which  it  is  my  duty  to  disclose.’’ 

Estella  smiled,  and  reached  forth  her  hand  for  the 
paper  with  the  dignity  of  conscious  courage  and  high 
blood. 

“ Let  me  read  it,”  she  said ; “ I do  not  think  it  can 
tell  me  anything  I cannot  endure.” 


62 


C^SAE’S  COLUMN. 


Maximilian  delivered  the  paper  into  her  hand.  T 
watched  her  face  as  she  read  it.  At  first  there  was  a 
look  of  wonder  at  the  minuteness  of  the  knowledge  of 
her  family  which  the  paper  revealed ; then  the  interest 
became  more  intense;  then  the  eyebrows  began  to 
rise  and  the  blue  eyes  to  dilate  with  horror;  then  an 
expression  of  scorn  swept  over  her  face ; and  as  she 
read  the  last  word  she  fiung  the  paper  from  her  as  if 
it  had  been  a serpent,  and  rising  up,  yes,  towering, 
a splendid  image  of  wrath,  she  turned  upon  us  and 
cried  out : 

“This  is  a base  falsehood ! A cowardly  trick  to 
wound  me!  A shameful  attempt  to  injure  my  dear 
aunt.” 

And,  wheeling  around  on  Eudolph,  her  eyes  blaz- 
ing, she  said : 

“Unlock  that  door  I I shall  reveal  at  once  to  the 
Prince  this  attack  on  his  good  name  and  Miss  Fred- 
erika.  How  dare  you  bring  these  men  here  with 
such  falsehoods?” 

Eudolph,  alarmed  for  himself,  hung  his  head  in 
silence.  He  was  trembling  violently. 

“Eudolph,”  said  Maximilian,  solemnly,  “I  call 
upon  you,  by  the  oath  you  have  taken,  to  say  to  this 
lady  whether  or  not  the  contents  of  that  paper  are 
true.” 

“I  believe  them  to  be  true,”  responded  Eudolph, 
in  a low  tone. 

It  was  wonderful  to  see  the  fine  indignation,  the 
keen  penetration  that  shone  in  Estella’s  eyes,  as 
she  looked  first  a,t  Eudolph  and  then  at  Maxi- 
milian. 

“Eudolph,”  said  Maximilian,  “bj^  the  oath  you 
have  taken,  tell  Miss  Washington  whether  or  not  you 


CjESAR'S  column. 


6,3 


paid  15,000  to  her  aunt,  Maria  Plunkett,  for  the  pur- 
chase other  body,  as  set  forth  in  that  paper.” 

“It  is  true,”  replied  Rudolph,  in  the  same  low  tone. 

“It  is  false!”  cried  Estella, — and  yet  I thought 
there  was  that  in  her  tone  which  indicated  that  the 
hideous  doubt  had  begun  to  enter  her  soul. 

“Rudolph,”  said  Maximilian,  “tell  this  lady 
whether  you  took  a receipt  from  her  aunt  for  the 
money  you  paid  for  her.” 

“I  did,”  replied  Rudolph. 

“Miss  Washington,”  said  Maximilian,  like  a law- 
yer who  has  reached  his  crucial  question,  for  he  was  a 
trained  attorney,  “would  you  recognize  your  aunt’s 
signature  if  you  saw  it?” 

“Certainly.” 

“You  have  often  seen  her  write?” 

“Yes ; hundreds  of  times.” 

“Have  you  any  reason  to  distrust  this  good  man, 
Rudolph?  Do  you  not  know  that  in  testifying  to  the 
truth  he  runs  the  risk  of  his  own  destruction?” 

“Yes,  yes,”  she  said,  and  there  wasa  wild  and  wor- 
ried look  in  her  eyes. 

“Read  the  receipt,  Rudolph,”  said  Maximilian. 

Rudolph  read,  in  the  same  low  and  almost  tremb- 
ling tones,  the  following : 

New  York,  August  5th,  1988. — Eeeeived  of  Matthew  Kudolph, 
for  the  Prince  of  Cabano,  the  sum  of  five  thousand  dollars,  in  con- 
sideration of  which  I have  delivered  to  the  said  Prince  of  Cabano 
the  body  of  my  niece,  Estella  Washington ; and  I hereby  agree,  as 
the  custodian  of  the  said  Estella  Washington,  never  to  demand  any 
further  payment,  from  the  said  Prince  of  Cabano,  on  account  of  my 
said  niece,  and  never  to  reclaim  her;  and  I also  pledge  myself  never 
to  reveal  to  any  of  the  relatives  of  the  said  Estella  Washington  her 
place  of  residence. 

(Signed)  MAEIA  PI.UNKETT. 


64 


CESAR'S  COLUMN. 


As  he  finished  reading  Estella  seized  the  receipt 
quickly  out  of  his  hands,  and  fixed  her  eyes  eagerly 
upon  the  signature.  In  a moment  she  became  deadly 
pale,  and  would  have  fallen  on  the  floor,  but  that  I 
caught  her  in  my  arms  — (oh,precious  burden !) — and 
bore  her  to  a sofa.  Rudolph  brought  some  water  and 
bathed  her  face.  In  a few  minutes  she  recovered  con- 
sciousness. She  looked  at  us  curiously  at  first,  and 
then,  as  memory  returned  to  her,  an  agonized  and 
distraught  look  passed  over  her  features,  and  I feared 
she  would  faint  again.  I held  some  water  to  her  lips. 
She  looked  at  me  with  an  intense  look  as  I knelt  at 
her  side.  Then  her  eyes  passed  to  Maximilian  and 
Rudolph,  who  stood  respectfully  a little  distance  from 
her.  The  tears  flowed  down  her  face.  Then  a new 
thought  seemed  to  strike  her,  and  she  rose  to  a sit- ' 
ting  posture. 

“It  cannot  be  true.  My  aunt  could  not  do  it. 
You  are  strangers  to  me.  It  is  a conspiracy.  I will 
ask  Frederika.” 

“No!  no!”  said  Rudolph;  “not  Frederika;  it 
would  not  be  to  her  interest  to  tell  you  the  truth. 
But  is  there  any  one  of  the  servants  in  whom  you 
have  more  confidence  than  all  the  others?” 

“Yes,”  she  said,  “there  is  Mary  Callaghan,  an 
honest  girl,  if  there  is  one  anywhere.  I think  she 
loves  me;  and  I do  not  believe  she  would  deceive  me.” 

“Then,”  said  Rudolph,  “you  shall  send  for  her  to 
come  here.  None  of  us  shall  speak  to  her  lest  you 
might  think  we  did  so  to  prompt  her.  We  will  hide 
behind  the  tapestry.  Dry  your  tears;  ring  for  a ser- 
vant, and  request  Mary  to  come  to  you,  and  then 
ask  her  such  questions  as  you  choose.” 

This  was  done,  and  in  a few  moments  Mary  ap- 


CESAR’S  COLUMN. 


65 


peared  — an  honest,  stout,  rosy-cheeked  Irish  girl, 
with  the  frank  blue  eyes  and  kindly  smile  of  her  people. 

“Mary,”  said  Estella,'‘you  have  always  been  kind 
to  me.  Do  you  love  me  sufficiently  to  tell  me  the 
truth  if  I ask  you  some  questions?” 

“Sure,  and  you  may  do  so,  my  dear,”  said  Mary. 

“Then,  Mary,  tell  me,  is  Frederika  the  Princo  of 
Cabano’s  niece?” 

“Niver  a drop’s  blood  to  him,”  replied  Mary. 

“What  is  she  doing  in  his  house,  then?”  asked 
Estella. 

“ Sure,  it  would  be  as  much  as  my  place  is  worth, 
ma’am,  to  answer  that  question ; and  hard  enough  it 
is  for  an  honest  girl  to  get  a place  now-a-days.  If  it 
hadn’t  been  for  Barney  McGuiggan,  who  married  my 
brother’s  sister-in-law,  and  who  is  own  cousin  to  Mr. 
Flaherty,  the  butler’s  second  assistant,  I couldn’t 
have  got  the  place  I have  at  all,  at  all.  And  if  I said 
a word  against  Miss  Frederika,  out  I would  go,  and 
where  would  I find  another  place?” 

“But,  Mary,  if  you  speak  the  truth  no  harm  shall 
follow  to  you.  I shall  never  repeat  what  you  say.  I 
do  not  ask  out  of  idle  curiosity,  but  much  depends 
on  your  answer.” 

“Indeed,  ma’am,” replied  Mary,  “if  you  weren’t  as 
innocent  as  ye’re  purty,  you  would  have  found  out 
the  answer  to  your  own  question  long  ago.  Faith, 
an’  don’t  everybody  in  the  house  know  she’s” — here 
she  approached,  and  whispered  solemnly  in  her  ear — 
“she’s  the  Prince’s  favorite  mistress?” 

Estella  recoiled.  After  a pause  she  said : 

“And,  Mary,  who  are  the  other  young  ladies  we  call 
the  Prince’s  cousins — Miss  Lucy,  Miss  Julia  and  the 
rest?” 


66 


CAESAR’S  COLUMN. 


“ Ivery  one  of  them's  the  same.  It’s  just  as  I told 
Hannah,  the  cook’s  scullion;  I didn’t  belave ye  knew 
a word  of  what  was  going  on  in  this  house.  And 
didn’t  I tell  her  that  Miss  Frederika  was  contriving 
to  kape  you  out  of  the  Prince’s  sight ; and  that  was 
the  rason  she  took  you  out  riding  for  hours  ivery 
day,  and  made  you  sleep  in  a remote  part  of  the 
palace ; for  if  the  Prince  ever  clapped  his  two  ougly 
eyes  upon  you  it  would  be  all  up  wid  Madame  I’ced- 
erika.” 

I could  see  from  where  I was  hidden  that  Estella 
grasped  the  back  of  a chair  for  support,  and  she  said 
in  a low  voice : 

“You  may  go,  Mary;  I am  much  obliged  to  you 
for  your  friendship  and  honesty.” 

We  found  her  sitting  in  the  chair,  with  her  hands 
over  her  face,  sobbing  convulsively.  At  last  she 
looked  around  upon  us  and  cried  out : 

“Oh,  my  God!  What  shall  I do?  lam  sold — 
sold — a helpless  slave.  Oh,  it  is  horrible !” 

“You  will  never  be  without  friends  while  we  live,” 
I said,  advancing  to  her  side. 

“But  I must  fly,”  she  cried  out,  “and  how  — 
where?” 

“My  dear  Miss  Washington,”  said  Maximilian,  in 
his  kindest  tones,  “I  have  a dear  mother,  who  will  be 
glad  to  welcome  you  as  her  own  child ; and  in  our 
quiet  home  you  can  remain,  safe  from  the  power  of 
the  Prince,  until  you  have  time  to  think  out  your 
future  course  of  life ; and  if  you  conclude  to  remain 
with  us  forever  you  will  be  only  the  more  welcome. 
Here  is  Rudolph,  who  will  vouch  for  me  that  I am  an 
honorable  man,  and  that  you  can  trust  yourself  to 
me  with  safety.” 


CmAR’S  COLUMN. 


67 


“Yes,”  said  Kudolph;  “Maximilian  Petion  is  the 
soul  of  honor.  His  simple  word  is  more  than  the  oath 
of  another.” 

“ Then  let  us  fly  at  once,”  said  Estella. 

“No,”  replied  Rudolph,  “that  would  not  do;  this 
house  is  guarded  and  full  of  spies.  You  would  be  fol- 
lowed and  reclaimed.” 

“What,  then,  do  you  advise?”  asked  Maximilian. 

“Let  me  see,”  replied  the  old  man,  thinking;  “this 
is  Thursday.  On  Monday  night  next  the  members  of 
‘the  government’  have  their  meeting  here.  There 
will  be  a number  of  visitors  present,  and  more  or  less 
confusion ; more  guards  will  be  necessary  also,  and  I 
can  contrive  to  have  one  of  the  Brotherhood  act  as 
sentinel  at  the  door  which  opens  into  a hall  which 
connects  with  this  room ; for  you  seQ  here  is  a special 
entrance  which  leads  to  a stairway  and  to  the  door 
I speak  of.  I will  procure  a gentleman’s  dress  for 
Miss  Estella ; she  is  tall  and  will  readily  pass  in  the 
dark  for  a man.  I will  secure  for  you  a permit  for  a 
carriage  to  enter  the  grounds.  You  will  bring  a close 
carriage  and  wait  with  the  rest  of  the  equipages,  near 
at  hand.  But  I must  have  some  one  who  will  accom-’ 
pany  Miss  Estella  from  this  room  to  the  carriage, 
for  I must  not  show  myself.” 

I stepped  forward  and  said,  “I  will  be  here.” 

“But  there  is  some  danger  in  the  task,”  said  Ru- 
dolph, looking  at  me  critically.  ‘ ‘ If  detected,  your  life 
would  pay  the  forfeit.” 

“I  would  the  danger  were  ten  times  as  great,”  I 
replied.  Estella  blushed  and  gave  me  a glance  of 
gratitude. 

“There  is  one  difficulty  I perceive,”  said  Maxi- 
milian. 


68 


CESAR’S  COLUMN. 


“ What  is  that?”  asked  Kudolph. 

“I  hesitate  about  leaving  Miss  Washington  ex- 
posed to  the  danger  of  remaining  four  days  longer  in 
this  horrible  house.” 

“I  will  look  after  that,”  replied  Rudolph.  “ Shehad 
better  pretend  ill  health,  and  keep  her  room  during 
that  time.  It  is  on  an  upper  floor,  and  if  she  remains 
there  the  danger  will  be  very  slight  that  the  Prince 
will  see  her.” 

“Miss  Washington,”  I said,  handing  her  the  dag- 
ger which  Max  had  given  me,  “take  this  weapon.  It 
is  poisoned  with  the  most  deadly  virus  known  to  the 
art  of  man.  A scratch  from  it  is  certain  death.  Use 
it  to  defend  yourself  if  assailed.” 

“ I know  how  I shall  use  it  in  the  last  extremity,” 
she  said,  meaningly. 

“Better,”  I replied,  “purity  in  death  than  degra- 
dation in  life.” 

She  thanked  me  with  her  eyes,  and  took  the  dag- 
ger and  hid  it  in  her  bosom. 

“There  is  one  other  matter,”  said  Rudolph  to 
Max ; “ the  meeting  next  Monday  night  is  to  be  a very 
important  one,  I think,  from  certain  indications.  It 
is  called  to  prepare  for  an  expected  outbreak  of  the 
people.  It  would  be  well  that  some  reliable  person 
should  be  present,  as  heretofore,  who  can  report  to 
you  all  that  occurs.  If  you  can  send  me  a discreet 
man  I can  hide  him  where  I have  before  hidden  our 
brethren.” 

“ Why  could  I not  serve  the  purpose?”  I said.  “ I 
will  be  here  anyhow ; and  as  I would  have  to  remain 
until  the  gathering  broke  up,  I might  just  as  well 
witness  the  proceedings.” 

“He  is  not  one  of  us,”  said  Rudolph,  doubtfully. 


CMSAIVS  COLUMN. 


69 


“ No,”  replied  Max;  “but  I will  vouch  for  his  fidel- 
ity with  my  life.” 

“ Then  be  it  so,”  said  Rudolph.  “ Let  Miss  Wash- 
ington withdraw  by  the  farther  door;  and  after  a 
reasonable  delay  we  will  pass  through  into  a com- 
municating series  of  rooms,  and  I will  then  show 
^our  friend  where  he  is  to  be  concealed.” 


CHAPTER  VII. 

THE  HIDING-PLACE. 

I HAD  seen  something  of  the  magnificence  of  this 
age,  and  of  the  splendor  of  its  lordly  habitations;' 
but  I was  not  prepared  for  the  grandeur  of  the  rooms 
through  which  Rudolph  led  me.  It  w'ould  be  impos- 
sible to  adequately  describe  them.  We  moved  noise- 
lessly over  carpets  soft  and  deep  as  a rich  sward,  but 
tinted  with  colors  and  designs,  from  the  great  looms 
of  the  world,  beside  which  the  comparison  of  nature’s 
carpets  seemed  insignificant.  We  passed  up  great 
winding  stairs,  over  which,  it  seemed  to  me,  three 
carriages  might  have  been  driven  abreast;  we  were 
surrounded  at  every  step  by  exquisite  statuary  and 
royal  paintings ; our  course  led  through  great  libra- 
ries where  the  softened  light  fell  on  the  endless  arrays 
of  richly-bound  books.  But  they  were  as  dead  intelli- 
gence under  the  spell  of  a magician . No  pale  students 
sat  at  the  tables  here,  availing  themselves  of  the 
treasures  which  it  had  taken  generations  to  assemble, 
and  some  of  which  could  scarcely  be  found  elsewhere. 
Men  and  w'omen  passed  and  repassed  us;  for  the 
house  was  so  full  of  servants  that  it  seemed  like  a 
town  in  itself.  Here  and  there  were  quiet-looking 
' watchmen,  who  served  the  place  of  police  in  a great 
city,  and  whose  duty  it  was  to  keep  watch  and  ward 
over  the  innumerable  articles  which  everywhere  met 
the  eye— costly  books,  works  of  art,  bronzes,  jeweled 
boxes,  musical  instruments,  small  groups  of  exquisite 

70 


CjESAR’S  column. 


71 


statuary,  engravings,  curios,  etc.,  from  all  quarters 
of  the  earth.  It  represented,  in  short,  the  very 
profligacy  and  abandon  of  unbounded  wealth.  Each 
room  seemed  to  contain  a king’s  ransom.  I could 
not  help  but  contrast  this  useless  and  extravagant 
luxury,  which  served  no  purpose  but  display  and 
vanity,  with  the  dreadful  homes  and  working-places 
of  the  poor  I had  visited  the  day  before.  And  it 
seemed  to  me  as  if  a voice  pierced  my  heart,  crying 
out  through  all  its  recesses,  in  strident  tones,  “How 
long,  0 Lord,  how  long?  ” And  then  I thought  how 
thin  a crust  of  earth  separated  all  this  splendor  from 
that  burning  hell  of  misery  beneath  it.  And  if  the 
molten  mass  of  horror  should  break  its  limitations 
and  overflow  the  earth ! Already  it  seemed  to  me  the 
planet  trembled ; I could  hear  the  volcanic  explosions ; 
I could  see  the  sordid  flood  of  wrath  and  hunger 
pouring  through  these  halls;  cataracts  of  misery 
bursting  through  every  door  and  window,  and  sweep- 
ing away  all  this  splendor  into  never-ending  black- 
ness and  ruin.  I stood  still,  lost  in  these  engrossing 
reflections,  when  Rudolph  touched  me  on  the  arm, 
and  led  the  way  through  a great  hall,  covered  with 
ancestral  portraits,  into  a magniflcent  chamber. 
In  the  center  stood  a large  table,  and  around  it 
about  two  score  chairs,  all  made  of  dark  tropical 
wood.  It  was  like  the  council  chamber  of  some 
great  government,  with  the  throne  of  the  king  at 
one  end. 

“This,”  said  Rudolph,  in  a solemn  whisper,  “this 
is  where  they  meet.  This  is  the  real  center  of  govern- 
ment of  the  American  continent ; all  the  rest  is  sham 

* ^ ' m 

and  form.  The  men  who  meet  here  determine  the 
condition  of  all  the  hundreds  of  millions  who  dwell  on 


72 


CESAR’S  COLUMN. 


the  great  land  revealed  to  the  world  by  Columbus. 
Here  political  parties,  courts,  juries,  governors,  legis- 
latures, congresses,  presidents  are  made  and  unmade; 
and  from  this  spot  they  are  controlled  and  directed 
in  the  discharge  of  their  multiform  functions.  The 
decrees  formulated  here  are  echoed  by  a hundred 
thousand  newspapers,  and  many  thousands  of  ora- 
tors ; and  they  are  enforced  by  an  uncountable  army 
of  soldiers,  servants,  tools,  spies,  and  even  assassins. 
He  who  stands  in  the  way  of  the  men  who  assemble 
here  perishes.  He  who  would  oppose  them  takes  his 
life  in  his  hands.  You  are,  young  man,  as  if  I had  led 
you  to  the  center  of  the  earth,  and  I had  placed  your 
hand  upon  the  very  pivot,  the  well-oiled  axle,  upon 
which,  noiselessly,  the  whole  great  globe  revolves,  and 
from  which  the  awful  forces  extend  which  hold  it  all 
together.” 

I felt  myself  overawed.  It  was  as  if  mighty  spirits 
even  then  inhabited  that  dusky  and  silent  chamber ; 
hostile  and  evil  spirits  of  whom  mankind  were  at 
once  the  subjects  and  the  victims.  I followed  Ru- 
dolph on  tiptoe  as  he  advanced  to  the  end  of  the 
room. 

“ Here,”  he  said,  entering  through  a wide  arch,  '‘is 
a conservatory  which  is  constantly  kept  supplied  and 
renewed,  from  the  hot-houses  of  the  palace,  with  the 
most  magnificent  flowers.  The  only  humanizing  trait 
the  Prince  seems  to  possess  is  an  affection  for  flowers. 
And  he  especially  loves  those  strange  Mexican  and 
South  American  plants,  thecaetacese,  which  unite  the 
most  exquisite  flowers  to  the  most  grotesque  and  re- 
pulsive forms,  covered  with  great  spear-like  spines, 
and  which  thrive  only  in  barren  lands,  and  on  the 
poorest  soil.  I have  taken  advantage  of  the  presence 


CESAR’S  COLUMN. 


73 


of  these  plants  to  construct  the  hiding-place  about 
which  I spoke  to  you.  Here  are  some  which  are 
fifteen  feet  high.  They  touch  the  ceiling  of  the  room. 
Around  them  I have  arranged  a perfect  hedge  or 
breast-work  of  smaller  plants  of  the  same  family, 
growing  in  large  boxes.  Nothing  could  penetrate 
through  this  prickly  wall ; and  I have  united  the 
boxes  by  hooks  and  staples  on  the  inside.  There  is, 
however,  one  which  a strong  man  can  move  aside ; 
and  through  the  opening  thus  formed  he  can  crawl  to 
the  center  of  the  barricade,  and,  having  replaced  the 
hooks,  it  would  be  almost  impossible  to  reach  him ; 
while  he  could  not  be  seen  unless  one  were  immediately 
over  him  and  looked  down  upon  him.  Then  between 
him  and  the  council  room  I have  arranged  a screen 
of  fiowers,  which  will  hide  you  when  you  stand  up, 
while  between  the  blossoms  you  can  see  everything 
with  little  risk  of  being  seen.  But  in  case  you  should 
be  detected  you  will  observe  behind  you  a window, 
which,  as  the  weather  is  warm,  I shall  leave  open.  On 
the  outside  is  a great  ivy  vine  that  will  bear  your 
weight.  You  will  have  to  dare  the  spines  of  the  cacti 
behind  you;  make  a great  leap  to  the  window  and 
take  your  chances  of  escaping  the  fusillade  of  pistol 
shots,  by  flying  in  the  darkness,  into  the  garden.  I 
will  show  you  the  grounds  so  that  you  will  not  be  lost 
in  them,  if  you  get  that  far.  If  caught,  you  will  have 
to  pretend  to  be  a burglar  who  entered  at  the  window 
for  purposes  of  plunder.  It  would  do  you  no  good  to 
inculpate  me,  for  it  would  doom  us  both  to  instant 
death  as  spies;  while  a supposed  burglar  would  be 
simply  turned  over  to  the  law  and  punished  by  a 
term  of  imprisonment.  I give  you  these  instructions 
although  I hope  there  will  be  no  necessity  for  them. 


74- 


CjESAe’s  column. 


This  hiding-place  has  been  several  times  used,  and  the 
deepest  secrets  of  the  aristocracy  revealed  to  our 
Brotherhood,  without  detection ; and  if  you  are  pru- 
dent and  careful  there  will  be  little  to  fear.  The  coun- 
cil will  meet  at  eight  o’clock;  at  half  past  seven  it  will 
be  my  duty  to  see  that  the  rooms  are  in  order,  and  to 
make  sure  that  there  are  no  spies  or  intruders  on  the 
premises,  and  to  so  report  in  person  to  the  Prince, 
and  deliver  him  the  key  of  the  outer  door.  1 shall 
cover  your  dress  with  the  garments  of  one  of  the 
household  servants,  and  take  you  with  me  to  help 
make  that  last  examination ; and,  watching  an  op- 
portunity, you  will  slip  into  the  hiding-place;  having 
first  taken  off  the  disguise  I have  lent  you,  which  we 
will  hide  among  the  plants.  You  must  be  armed  and 
prepared  for  every  emergency.  I will  meet  you  in  the 
garden  at  half  past  six ; before  we  part  I will  furnish 
you  with  a key  to  an  outer  gate,  by  which  you  can 
enter.  As  soon  as  the  council  has  broken  up,  I will 
return  to  the  room  and  again  disguise  you  in  the 
servant’s  dress.  The  Prince  always  entertains  his 
guests  with  a lunch  and  champagne  before  they  sep- 
arate. 

“In  the  meantime  I will  bring  Estella  to  my  room; 
you  can  then  pass  out  together  and  boldly  advance 
to  your  carriage.  You  will  first  have  to  agree  Avith 
Maximilian  where  it  will  stand ; and  the  guard  at  the 
door  will  show  you  to  it.  When  once  in  it,  drive  like 
the  wind.  You  must  arrange  with  Maximilian  as  to 
what  is  to  be  done  in  case  you  find  you  are  followed, 
for  in  that  event  it  will  not  do  to  drive  directly  to  his 
house.  You  must  enter  the  house  of  some  one  of  the 
Brotherhood  and  pass  rapidly  through  it,  with  Miss 
Washington,  to  a carriage  that  will  be  in  waiting  in 


C^SAE'S  COLUMN. 


\5 

a rear  street.  And  you  must  be  prepared  with  one  or 
more  such  subterfuges,  for  you  are  dealing  with  men 
of  terrible  power  and  cunning,  whose  arms  reach  every- 
where; and  on  the  night  of  their  councils — and  in 
fact  upon  all  other  nights — the  place  abounds  with 
spies.  Come  with  me  and  I will  show  you  the  garden 
and  how  to  enter  it.” 

I was  struck  with  the  intelligence,  sagacity  and  ex- 
ecutive capacity  of  the  man ; and  I said  to  him  : 

“How  comes  it  that  you,  holding  such  a position 
of  trust  and  power,  where  your  compensation  must 
be  all  you  can  ask,  are,  at  the  same  time,  a member  of 
a society  Avhich,  if  I understand  aright,  threatens  to 
overturn  the  existing  order  of  things.  You  are  not 
driven  to  rebellion  by  want  or  oppression.” 

“No,”  he  said;  “I  was  educated  at  Heidelberg;  I 
come  of  a wealthy  family ; but  in  my  youth,  while  an 
enthusiastic  lover  of  liberty  and  humanity,  I became 
a member  of  a German  branch  of  this  now  universal 
Brotherhood.  I had  my  dreams,  as  many  have,  of  re- 
forming the  world.  But  my  membership,  by  a 
strange  accident,  became  known,  and  I was  forced  to 
fly  in  disgrace,  discarded  by  my  relatives,  to  America. 
Here  I lived  in  great  poverty  for  a time,  until  the 
Brotherhood  came  to  my  assistance  and  secured  me 
a.  servant’s  place  in  this  house.  I have  gradually  risen 
to  my  present  position.  While  I am  not  so  enthusi- 
astic as  I once  was,  nor  so  sanguine  of  the  good. re- 
sults of  the  promised  revolution  of  the  proletariat,  I 
have  nevertheless  seen  enough  within  these  walls  to 
show  me  the  justice  of  our  cause  and  the  necessity  for 
some  kind  of  reformation.  I could  not  draw  back  . 
now,  if  I desired  to ; and  1 do  not  know  that  I would 
if  I could.  We  are  all  moving  together  on  the  face  of 


76 


CESAR'S  COLUMN. 


the  torrent,  and  whither  it  will  eventually  sweep  us 
no  one  can  tell.  But  come,”  he  added,  “to  the 
garden,  or  our  long  conversation  may  be  noticed, 
and  arouse  suspicion.” 


CHAPTER  Vm. 

THE  BROTHERHOOD. 

I CANNOT  give  you,  my  dear  brother,  a detailed 
account  of  every  day’s  occurrences,  although  I know 
that  your  love  for  me  would  make  every  incident  of 
interest  to  you.  I shall,  however,  jot  down  my  reflec- 
tions on  sheets,  and  send  them  to  you  as  occasion 
serves. 

The  more  I have  seen,  and  the  more  I have  conversed 
with  Maximilian,  the  more  clearly  I perceive  that  the 
civilized  world  is  in  a desperate  extremity.  This 
Brotherhood  of  Destruction,  with  its  terrible  purposes 
and  its  vast  numbers,  is  a reality.  If  the  ruling  class 
had  to  deal  only  with  a brutalized  peasantry,  they 
might,  as  they  did  in  other  ages,  trample  them 
into  animal-like  inability  to  organize  and  defend  them- 
selves. But  the  public  school  system,  which,  with  the 
other  forms  of  the  Republic,  is  still  kept  up,  has  made, 
if  not  all,  at  least  a very  large  percentage  of  the  un- 
happy laboring  classes  intelligent.  In  fact,  they  are 
wonderfully  intelligent;  their  organizations  have  been 
to  them  clubs,  debating  societies  and  legislatures. 
And  you  know  that  all  the  greatest  minds  of  the 
earth  have  come  out  of  the  masses,  if  not  directly,  at 
least  after  one  or  two  removes.  The  higher  aristoc- 
racy have  contributed  but  very  few  to  the  honored 
catalogue  of  men  of  pre-eminent  genius.  And  there- 
fore you  will  not  be  surprised  to  hear  that  in  these 
great  organizations  there  have  arisen,  from  among 


78 


C^SAB’S  COLUMN. 


tlie  very  laborers,  splendid  orators,  capable  organiz- 
ers, profound  students  of  politics  and  political  econ- 
omy, statesmen  and  masterly  politicians.  Nature, 
which  knows  no  limit  to  her  capacity  for  the  crea- 
tion of  new  varieties,  and,  dealing  with  hundreds  of 
millions,  has  innumerable  elements  to  mingle  in  her 
combinations,  has  turned  out  some  marvelous  lead- 
ers among  these  poor  men.  Their  hard  fortunes  have 
driven  out  of  their  minds  all  illusions,  all  imagi- 
nation, all  poetry ; and  in  solemn  fashion  they  have 
bent  themselves  to  the  grim  and  silent  struggle  with 
their  environment.  Without  imagination,  I say,  for 
this  seems  to  me  to  be  a world  without  a song. 

And  it  is  to  the  credit  of  these  great  masses  that 
they  are  keen  enough  to  recognize  the  men  of  ability 
that  rise  up  among  them,  and  even  out  of  their  poor, 
hard-earned  resources  to  relieve  them  of  the  ne- 
cessity for  daily  toil,  that  they  may  devote  them- 
selves to  the  improvement  of  their  minds,  and  the 
execution  of  the  great  tasks  assigned  them.  There  is 
no  doubt  that  if  the  ruling  classes  had  been  willing  to 
recognize  these  natural  leaders  as  men  of  the  same 
race,  blood,  tongue  and  capacity  as  themselves,  and 
had  reached  down  to  them  a helping  and  kindly  hand, 
there  might  have  been  long  since  a coming  together 
of  the  two  great  divisions  of  society ; and  such  a re- 
adjustment of  the  values  of  labor  as  would,  while  it 
insured  happiness  to  those  below,  have  not  materially 
lessened  the  enjoyments  of  those  above.  But  the 
events  which  preceded  the  great  war  against  the  aris- 
tocracy in  1640,  in  England;  the  great  revolution  of 
1789,  in  France ; and  the  greater  civil  war  of  1861,  in 
America,  all  show  how  impossible  it  is,  by  any  process 
of  reasoning,  to  induce  a privileged  class  to  peacefully 


CESAR’S  COLUMN. 


79 


yield  up  a single  tittle  of  its  advantages.  There  is  no 
bigotry  so  blind  or  intense  as  that  of  caste ; and  long 
established  wrongs  are  only  to  be  rooted  out  by  fire 
and  sword.  And  hence  the  future  looks  so  black  to 
* me.  The  upper  classes  might  reform  the  world,  but 
they  will  not ; the  lower  classes  would,  but  they  can- 
not; and  for  a generation  or  more  these  latter  have 
settled  down  into  a sullen  and  unanimous  conviction 
that  the  only  remedy  is  world-wide  destruction.  We 
can  say,  as  one  said  at  the  opening  of  the  Crom- 
wellian struggle,  “God  help  the  land  w’here  ruin  must 
reform ! ” But  the  proletariat  are  desperate.  They 
are  ready,  like  the  blind  Samson,  to  pull  down  the 
pillars  of  the  temple,  even  though  they  themselves 
fall,  crushed  to  death  amid  the  ruins;  for 

‘‘  The  grave  is  brighter  than  their  hearths  and  homes.’’ 

I learn  from  Maximilian  that  their  organization 
is  most  perfect.  Every  one  of  their  hundred  millions 
is  now  armed  with  one  of  the  newest  improved  maga- 
zine rifles.  The  use  of  the  white  powder  reduces  very 
much  the  size  of  the  cartridges ; the  bullets  are  also 
much  smaller  than  they  were  formerly,  but  they  are 
each  charged  with  a most  deadly  and  powerful  ex- 
plosive, which  tears  the  body  of  the  victim  it  strikes  to 
pieces.  These  small  cartridges  are  stored  in  the  steel 
stock  and  barrel  of  the  rifles,  which  will  hold  about 
one  hundred  of  them;  and  every  soldier  therefore 
carries  in  his  hand  a weapon  almost  equal  to  the  old- 
time  Gatling  or  Armstrong  gun. 

The  mode  in  which  these  guns  were  procured  shows 
the  marvelous  nature  of  the  organization  and  its  re- 
sources . Findiug  that  the  cost  of  the  guns  was  greatly 
increased  by  the  profits  of  the  manufacturer  and 


80 


CMSAR'S  COLUMN. 


the  middleman,  and  that  it  was,  in  fact,  very  doubt- 
ful whether  the  government  would  permit  them  to 
purchase  them  in  any  large  quantities,  they  re- 
solved to  make  them  for  themselves.  In  the  depths 
of  abandoned  coal  mines,  in  the  wildest  and  most 
mountainous  part  of  Tennessee,  they  established, 
years  ago,  their  armories  and  foundries.  Here,  under 
pretense  of  coal-mining  and  iron-working,  they 
brought  members  of  their  Brotherhood,  workmen 
from  the  national  gun-works;  and  these,  teaching 
hundreds  of  others  the  craft,  and  working  day  and 
night,  in  double  gangs,  have  toiled  until  every 
able-bodied  man  in  the  whole  vast  Brotherhood,  in 
America  and  Europe,  has  been  supplied  with  his 
weapon  and  a full  accompaniment  of  ammunition. 
The  cost  of  all  this  was  reduced  to  a minimum,  and 
has  been  paid  by  each  member  of  the  Brotherhood 
setting  aside  each  week  a small  percentage  of  his  earn- 
ings. But,  lest  they  should  break  out  prematurely, 
before  the  leaders  gave  the  word,  these  guns  have 
not  been  delivered  directly  to  their  owners,  but  to  the 
“commanders  of  tens,”  as  they  are  called;  for  the 
Brotherhood  is  divided  into  groups  of  ten  each ; and 
it  is  the  duty  of  these  commanders  to  bury  the  weap- 
ons and  ammunition  in  the  earth  in  rubber  sacks, 
furnished  for  the  purpose,  and  only  to  deliver  them 
when  the  signal  comes  to  strike.  In  the  mean- 
time the  men  are  trained  with  sticks  in  all  the  evolu- 
tions of  soldiers.  You  can  see  how  cunning  is  all  this 
system.  A traitor  cannot  betray  more  than  nine  of 
his  fellows,  and  his  own  death  is  certain  to  follow.  If 
the  commander  of  a squad  goes  over  to  the  enemy, 
he  can  but  deliver  up  nine  men  and  ten  guns,  and  per- 
haps reveal  the  supposed  name  of  the  one  man  who, 


VAiSAlVS  COLUMN. 


81 


ill  a disguise,  has  coniiiuiiiicated  with  him  from  the 
parent  society.  But  when  the  signal  is  given  a hun- 
dred million  trained  soldiers  will  stand  side  by  side, 
armed  with  the  most  efficient  weapons  the  cunning  of 
man  is  able  to  produce,  and  directed  by  a central 
authority  of  extraordinary  ability.  Above  all  this 
dreadful  preparation  the  merry  world  goes  on,  sing- 
ing and  dancing,  marrying  and  giving  in  marriage, 
as  thoughtless  of  the  impending  catastrophe  as  were 
the  people  of  Pompeii  in  those  pleasant  August  days 
in  79,  just  before  the  city  was  buried  in  ashes;  — and 
yet  the  terrible  volcano  had  stood  there,  in  the  im- 
mediate presence  of  themselves  and  their  ancestors, 
for  generations,  and  more  than  once  the  rocking 
earth  had  given  signal  tokens  of  its  awful  pos- 
sibilities. 

If  I believed  that  this  wonderful  Brotherhood  was 
capable  of  anything  beyond  destruction,  I should  not 
look  with  such  terror  as  I do  upon  the  prospect.  But 
after  destruction  there  must  come  construction — 
the  erection  of  law  and  civilization  upon  the  ruins  of 
the  present  order  of  things.  Who  can  believe  that 
these  poor  brutalized  men  will  be  capable,  armed  to 
the  teeth  with  deadly  weapons,  and  full  of  passions, 
hates  and  revenges,  to  recreate  the  slaughtered  so- 
ciety? In  civilized  life  the  many  must  work ; and  who 
among  these  liberated  slaves  will  be  ready  to  lay 
down  their  weapons  and  take  up  their  tasks  ? When 
the  negroes  of  San  Domingo  broke  out,  in  that  world- 
famous  and  bloody  insurrection,  they  found  them- 
selves, when  they  had  triumphed,  in  a tropical  land, 
where  the  plentiful  bounties  of  nature  hung  abundant 
supplies  of  food  upon  every  tree  and  shrub.  But  in 
the  temperate  regions  of  America  and  Europe  these 
G 


82 


CAESAR’S  COLUMN. 


vast  populations  can  only  live  by  great  toil,  and  if 
none  will  toil  all  must  starve ; but  before  they  starve 
they  will  slay  each  other,  and  that  means  universal 
conflict,  savagery,  barbarism,  chaos. 

I tremble,  my  brother,  I tremble  with  horror 
when  I think  of  what  is  crawling  toward  us,  with 
noiseless  steps ; couchant,  silent,  treacherous,  pard- 
like ; scarce  rustling  the  dry  leaves  as  it  moves,  and 
yet  with  bloodshot,  glaring  eyes  and  tense-drawn 
limbs  of  steel,  ready  for  the  fatal  spring.  When 
comes  it?  To-night?  To-morrow?  A week  hence? 
Who  can  say? 

And  the  thought  forever  presses  on  me,  Can  I do 
nothing  to  avert  this  catastrophe?  Is  there  no  hope? 
For  mankind  is  in  itself  so  noble,  so  beautiful,  so 
full  of  all  graces  and  capacities;  with  aspirations 
fitted  to  sing  among  the  angels;  with  comprehension 
fitted  to  embrace  the  universe!  Consider  the  exqui- 
site, lithe-limbed  figures  of  the  first  man  and  woman, 
as  they  stood  forth  against  the  red  light  of  their  first 
sunset — fresh  from  the  hand  of  the  Mighty  One — His 
graceful,  perfected,  magnificent  thoughts  I What  love 
shines  out  of  their  great  eyes ; what  goodness,  like 
dawn-awakened  flowers,  is  blooming  in  their  singing 
hearts  I And  all  to  come  to  this.  To  this  I A hell  of 
injustice,  ending  in  a holocaust  of  slaughter. 

God  is  not  at  fault.  Nature  is  not  to  blame.  Civil- 
ization, signifying  increased  human  power,  is  not 
responsible.  But  human  greed, — blind,  insatiable 
human  greed, — shallow  cunning;  the  basest,  stuff- 
grabbing, nut-gathering,  selfish  instincts,  these  have 
done  this  work  I The  rats  know  too  much  to  gnaw 
through  the  sides  of  the  ship  that  carries  them ; but 
these  so-called  wise  men  of  the  world  have  eaten  away 


CjE&AWS  column. 


83 


the  walls  of  society  in  a thousand  places,  to  the  thin- 
ness of  tissue-paper,  and  the  great  ocean  is  about  to 
pour  in  at  every  aperture.  And  still  they  hoot  and 
laugh  their  insolent  laugh  of  safety  and  triumph 
above  the  roar  of  the  greedy  and  boundless  waters, 
just  ready  to  overwhelm  them  forever. 

Full  of  these  thoughts,  which  will  not  permit  me  to 
sleep  at  night,  and  which  haunt  my  waking  hours,  I 
have  gone  about,  for  some  days,  accompanied  by 
Maximilian,  and  have  attended  meetings  of  the 
Avorkingmen  in  all  parts  of  the  city.  The  ruling  class 
long  since  denied  them  the  privilege  of  free  speech, 
under  the  pretense  that  the  safety  of  society  required 
it.v  In  doing  so  they  have  screwed  down  the  safety- 
valve,  while  the  steam  continues  to  generate.  Hence 
the  men  meet  to  discuss  their  wrongs  and  their  reme- 
dies in  underground  cellars,  under  old  ruined  brewer- 
ies and  warehouses;  and  there,  in  large,  low-roofed 
apartments,  lighted  by  tallow  candles,  flaring  against 
the  dark,  damp,  smoky  walls,  the  swarming 
masses  assemble,  to  inflame  each  other  mutually 
against  their  oppressors,  and  to  look  forward,  with 
many  a secret  hint  and  innuendo,  to  that  great  day  of 
Avrath  and  revenge  Avhich  they  know  to  be  near  at 
hand  — 

“And  Avith  pale  lips  men  say, 

To-morrow,  perchance  to-day, 

Enceladus  may  arise  I” 

But  as  any  member  is  permitted  to  bring  in  a 
friend — for  these  are  not  meetings  of  the  Brother- 
hood itself,  but  simply  voluntary  gatherings  of 
Avorkmen, — and  as  any  man  may  prove  a traitor, 
their  utterances  are  guarded  and  enigmatical. 

More  than  once  I have  spoken  to  them  in  these  dim 


84 


C^SAil^S  COLUMN. 


halls ; and  while  full  of  sympathy  for  their  sufferings, 
and  indignant  as  they  themselves  can  be  against 
their  oppressors,  I have  pleaded  with  them  to  stay 
their  hands,  to  seek  not  to  destroy,  but  to  reform.  I 
preach  to  them  of  the  glories  of  civilization;  I 
trace  its  history  backward  through  a dozen  eras 
and  many  nations ; I show  them  how  slowly  it  grew, 
and  by  what  small  and  gradual  accretions;  I tell 
them  how  radiantly  it  has  burst  forth  in  these  latter 
centuries^  with  such  magnificent  effulgence,  until  to- 
day man  has  all  nature  at  his  feet,  shackled  and  gyved, 
his  patient  logman.  I tell  them  that  a ruffian,  with 
one  blow  of  his  club,  can  destroy  the  life  of  a man; 
and  that  all  the  doctors  and  scientists  and  philoso- 
phers of  the  world,  working  together  for  ages,  could 
not  restore  that  which  he  has  so  rudely  extinguished. 
And  so,  I say  to  them,  the  civilization  which  it  has 
taken  ten  thousand  years  to  create  may  be  swept 
away  in  an  hour ; and  there  shall  be  no  power  in  the 
wit  or  wisdom  of  man  to  re-establish  it. 

Most  of  them  have  listened  respectfully;  a few  have 
tried  to  answer  me;  some  have  mocked  me.  But  it  is 
as  if  one  came  where  grouped  convicts  stood,  long  im- 
prisoned, who  heard — with  knives  in  their  hands — 
the  thunderous  blows  of  their  friends  as  they  battered 
down  the  doors  of  their  prison-house,  and  he  should 
beg  them  not  to  go  forth,  lest  they  should  do  harm 
to  society ! They  will  out,  though  the  heavens  and 
the  earth  came  together ! One  might  as  well  whisper 
to  Niagara  to  cease  falling,  or  counsel  the  resistless 
cyclone,  in  its  gyrating  and  terrible  advance,  to  have 
a care  of  the  rose-bushes. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

THE  POISONED  KNIFE. 

When  we  returned  home,  on  Sunday  evening,  Max 
found  the  receptacle  in  the  wall  which  communicated 
with  the  pnenmatic-tube  system  standing  open.  In 
it  he  found  a long  communication  in  cipher.  He  read 
a few  lines  with  a startled  look  and  then  said : 

“Here  is  important  news,  Gabriel.  It  is  written  in 
one  of  the  ciphers  of  the  Brotherhood,  which  I will 
translate  to  you.  The  number  is  that  of  Rudolph — 
the  number  it  is  addressed  to  is  my  own.  We  know 
ea;ch  other  in  the  Brotherhood,  not  by  our  names, 
but  b^'-  the  numbers  given  us  when  we  became  mem- 
bers. Listen : 

“From  number  28,263  M 2,  to  No.  160,053  P 4. 
Dated  this  7:9,  from  the  house  of  the  condemned,  No. 
826  B.” 

“That,”  said  Maximilian,  “means  the  Prince 
Cabano.  ” He  continued  to  read : 

“ Startling  events  have  occurred  since  I saw  you. 
The  former  favorite  mistress  of  826  B,  who  was  dis- 
placed by  Frederika,  is  a French  girl,  Celestine 
d’Aublay . She  resented  her  downfall  bitterly,  and  she 
hates  Frederika  with  the  characteristic  vehemence  of 
her  race.  She  learned  from  the  talk  of  the  servants 
that  anew  victim — Estella — had  been  brought  into 
the  house,  a girl  of  great  beauty ; and  that  Frederika 
was  trying  to  prevent  826  B from  seeing  her.  A 
sudden  thought  took  possession  of  her  mind;  she 


86 


CESAR’S  COLUMN. 


would  overthrow  Frederika  just  as  she  herself  had 
been  overthrown.  Yesterday,  Saturday  afternoon, 
she  watched  for  826  B in  the  hallways  and  chambers. 
The  snuffling  old  wretch  has  a fashion  of  prying 
around  in  all  parts  of  the  house,  under  the  fear  that 
he  is  being  robbed  by  the  servants ; and  it  was  not 
long  until  Celestine  encountered  him.  She  threw 
herself  in  his  way. 

“‘Well,  little  one,’  he  said,  chucking  her  under 
the  chin,  ‘ how  have  you  been  ? I have  not  seen  your 
pretty  face  for  a long  time.’ 

“‘Indeed,’  said  she,  ‘you  care  very  little  now 
for  my  pretty  face,  or  that  of  any  one  else,  since  you 
have  your  new  toy,  Estella.’ 

“ ‘ Estella ! ’ he  repeated,  ‘ who  is  Estella?  ’ 

“‘Come,  come,’  she  said  laughing;  ‘that  will  not 
do ! Master  Eudolph  brings  into  the  house  a young 
girl  of  ravishing  beauty,  and  weeks  afterwards  j^ou 
ask  me  who  she  is ! I am  not  to  be  deceived  that 
way.  I know  you  too  well.’ 

“‘But  really,’  he  replied,  ‘I  have  not  seen  her. 
This  is  the  first  I have  ever  heard  of  her.  Who  is 
she?’ 

“ ‘Her  name  is  Estella  Washington,’  replied  Celes- 
tine ; ‘ she  is  about  eighteen  years  old.’ 

“ ‘ Estella  Washington,’ he  said  respectfully;  ‘that 
is  a great  name.  What  is  she  like  ? ’ 

“‘I  have  told  you  already,’ was  the  reply,  ‘that 
she  is  of  magnificent  beauty,  tall,  fair,  stately,  grace- 
ful and  innocent.’ 

“ ‘ Indeed,  I must  see  her.  ’ 

“ He  hurried  to  his  library  and  rang  my  bell. 

“‘Rudolph,’  he  said,  when  I appeared,  ‘who  is 
this  Estella  Washington  that  you  brought  into  the 


CESAR'S  COLUMN. 


87 


house  some  weeks  since?  Celestine  has  been  telling 
me  about  her.  How  comes  it  I have  never  seen  her  ? ’ 

“ My  heart  came  into  my  mouth  with  a great  leap  ; 
but  I controlled  my  excitement  and  replied : 

“‘My  lord,  I reported  to  you  the  fact  of  the  pur- 
chase some  time  since,  and  the  payment  of  $5,000  to 
an  aunt  of  Estella.’ 

“‘True,’  he  said,  ‘I  remember  it  now;  but  I was 
much  occupied  at  the  time.  How  comes  it,  however, 
that  she  has  been  in  the  house  and  I have  never  seen 
her?.’ 

“I  determined  not  to  betray  Frederika,  and  so  I 
replied : 

“‘It  must  have  been  by  accident,  your  lordship; 
and,  moreover,  Estella  is  of  a very  quiet,  retiring  dis- 
position, and  has  kept  her  room  a great  part  of  the 
time  since  she  came  here.’ 

“ ‘ Go  to  her  and  bring  her  here,’  he  said. 

“There  was  no  help  for  it;  so  I proceeded  to 
Estella’s  room. 

“ ‘Miss  Washing-ton,  ’ I said,  ‘I  have  bad  news  for 
you.  The  Prince  desires  to  see  you?  ’ 

“ She  rose  up,  very  pale. 

“ ‘My  God,’  she  said,  ‘what  shall  I do?  ’ 

“And  then  she  began  to  fumble  in  the  folds  of  her 
dress  for  the  knife  your  friend  gave  her. 

“‘Be  calm  and  patient,’  I said;  ‘do  nothing  des- 
perate. On  the  night  after  next  your  friend  will  come 
for  you.  We  must  delay  matters  all  we  can.  Keep 
your  room,  and  I will  tell  the  Prince  that  you  are  too 
sick  to  leave  your  bed,  but  hope  to  be  well  enough  to 
pay  your  respects  to  him  to-morrow  afternoon.  We 
will  thus  gain  twenty-four  hours’  delay,  and  Ave  may 
be  able  to  use  the  same  device  again  to-morrow.’ 


CjESAR’S  column. 


8L 

“But  she  was  very  much  excited,  and  paced  the 
room  with  hurried  steps,  wringing  her  hands.  To 
calm  her  I said : 

“ ‘ You  are  in  no  danger.  You  can  lockyour  door. 
And  see,  come  here,’  I said,  and,  advancing  to  one  of 
the  window  sills,  I lifted  it  up  and  disclosed,  neatly 
coiled  within  it,  a ladder  of  cords,  with  stout  bamboo 
rounds.  ‘As  a last  resort,’  I continued,  ‘you  can 
drop  this  out  of  the  window  and  fly.  All  the  rooms 
in  this  older  part  of  the  palace  are  furtiished  with 
similar  flre-escapes.  You  see  that  yellow  path  below 
us ; and  there  beyond  the  trees  you  may  perceive  a 
part  of  the  wall  of  the  gardens ; that  path  terminates 
at  a little  gate,  and  here  is  a key  that  will  unlock  it. 
Study  the  ground  well  from  your  windows.  Your  es- 
cape would,  however,  have  to  be  made  by  night ; but 
as  you  would  run  some  risk  in  crossing  the  grounds, 
and,  when  you  passed  the  gate,  would  And  yourself 
in  the  midst  of  a strange  world,  without  a friend,  you 
must  only  think  of  flight  as  your  last  resource  in  the 
m ost  desperate  extremity.  We  must  resort  to  cunning, 
until  your  friends  come  for  you,  on  Monday  night. 
But  be  patient  and  courageous.  Remember,  .1  am 
your  friend,  and  my  life  is  pledged  to  your  service.’ 

“She  turned  upon  me,  and  her  penetrating  eyes 
seemed  to  read  my  very  soul. 

“‘How,’  she  said,  ‘can  I trust  you?  You  area 
stranger  to  me.  Worse  than  that,  you  are  the  hired 
instrument  of  that  monster — that  dealer  in  flesh  and 
blood.  You  bought  me  and  brought  me  here;  and 
who  are  your  friends  ? They  too  are  strangers  to  me. 
WJiy  should  I believe  in  strangers  when  the  one  whom  1 
loved,  and  in  whom  I placed  unquestioning  trust,  has 
betrayed  me,  and  sold  me  to  the  most  dreadful  fate?  ’ 


CESAR'S  COLUMN. 


89 


“ I hung  my  head. 

“ ‘It  chances,’  I replied,  humbly,  ‘that  the  instru- 
ments of  vice  may  sometimes  loathe  the  work  they  do. 
The  fearful  executioner  may,  behind  his  mask,  hide 
the  traces  of  grief  and  pity.  I do  not  blame  you  for 
your  suspicions.  I once  had  aspirations,  perhaps  as 
high,  and  purity  of  soul  nearly  as  great  as  your  own. 
But  what  are  we?  The  creatures  of  fate ; the  victims 
of  circumstances.  We  look  upon  the  Medusa-head  of 
destiny,  with  its  serpent  curls,  and  our  wills,  if  not 
our  souls,  are  turned  into  stone.  God  alone,  who 
knows  all,  can  judge  the  heart  of  man.  But  I am 
pledged,  by  ties  the  most  awful,  to  a society  which, 
however  terrible  its  methods  may  be,  is,  in  its  grand 
conceptions,  charitable  and  just.  My  life  would  not 
be  worth  a day’s  purchase  if  I did  not  defend  you. 
One  of  your  friends  stands  high  in  that  society.’ 

“ ‘ Which  one  is  that?’  she  asked,  eagerly. 

“ ‘ The  smaller  and  darker  one,’  I replied. 

“ ‘ Can  you  tell  me  anything  about  the  other?  ’ she 
asked,  and  a slight  blush  seemed  to  mantle  her  face, 
as  if  she  were  ashamed  of  the  question. 

“ ‘ Very  little,’  I replied ; ‘ he  is  not  amember  of  our 
Brotherhood ; but  he  is  a brave  man,  and  the  friend 
of  Mr.  Maximilian  can  not  be  a bad  man.’ 

“ ‘ No,’  she  said,  thoughtfully ; ‘ he  is  of  agood  and 
noble  nature,  and  it  is  in  him  I trust.’ 

“‘But,’  said  I,  ‘I  must  leave  you,  or  the  Prince 
will  wonder  at  my  long  absence.’ 

“As  I took  my  departure  I heard  her  locking  the 
door  behind  me.  I reported  to  the  Prince  that  Miss 
Washington  was  quite  ill,  and  confined  to  her  bed, 
but  that  she  hoped  to  do  herself  the  honor  of  calling 
upon  him  the  next  day.  He  looked  glum,  but  assented. 


90 


CjESAR’S  column. 


Upon  leaving  him,  I called  upon  Frederika  and  re- 
quested her  to  come  to  my  room.  In'a  few  moments 
she  appeared.  After  seating  her  I said : 

“ ‘ Miss  Frederika,  will  you  pardon  me  if  I ask  you 
a few  questions  upon  matters  of  importance  to  both 
of  us?’ 

“ ‘ Certainly,’  she  replied. 

“‘In  the  first  place,’  I said,  ‘ you  regard  me  as 
your  friend,  do  you  not?  Have  I not  always  shown  a 
disposition  to  serve  you?’ 

“ She  replied  with  some  pleasant  smiles  and  assur- 
ances of  friendship. 

“ ‘Now  let  me  ask  you  another  question,’  I con- 
tinued. ‘Do  you  entertain  friendly  sentiments  to 
Miss  Estella?  ’ 

“‘Indeed  I do,’  she  replied;  ‘she  is  a sweet-tem- 
pered, innocent  and  gentle  girl.’ 

“ ‘ I am  glad  to  hear  it,’  I said ; ‘ did  you  know  that 
the  Prince  has  discovered  her,  and  has  just  sent  me 
for  her?  ’ 

“ Her  large  black  eyes  fairly  blazed. 

“‘Who  has  told  him  of  her?’ she  asked,  fiercely, 
and  her  voice  rose  high  and  shrill. 

“ ‘ Your  enemy.  Miss  Celestine,’  I replied. 

“ ‘ I suspected  as  much,’  she  said. 

“ ‘ I need  not  tell  you,  ’ I said,  ‘ that  Celestine’s 
motive  was  to  supplant  and  humble  you.’ 

“‘I  understand  that,’  she  replied,  and  her  hands 
twitched  nervously,  as  if  she  would  like  to  encounter 
her  foe. 

“‘Now  let  me  ask  you  another  question,’ I con- 
tinued. ‘Would  you  not  be  glad  to  see  Estella  safely 
out  of  this  house?  ’ 

‘“Indeed  I would,’  she  replied,  eagerly. 


CESAR’S  COLUMN. 


91 


“ ‘ If  I place  my  life  in  your  hands,  will  you  be  true 
to  me?’  I asked. 

“ She  took  me  earnestly  by  the  hand,  and  replied 

“ ‘ Neither  in  life  nor  in  death  will  I betray  you.’ 

“‘Then,’  said  I,  ‘I  will  tell  you  that  Estella  has 
friends  who  are  as  anxious  to  get  her  away  from  this 
place  as  you  are.  They  have  arranged  to  come  for  her 
on  Monday  night  next.  You  must  help  me  to  protect 
her  from  the  Prince  in  the  meantime,  and  to  facili- 
tate her  escape  when  the  time  comes.’ 

“‘I  will  do  so,’  she  said;  ‘tell  me  what  I can  do 
now?’ 

“ ‘Make  yourself  very  entertaining  to  the  Prince,’ 
I replied,  ‘and  keep  his  thoughts  away  from  the 
stranger.  Estella  pleads  sickness  and  keeps  her 
room;  and  we  may  be  able  to  protect  her  in  that 
way  until  the  fateful  night  arrives.  And  remember,’ 
I said,  touching  her  upon  the  breast  and  looking 
earnestly  into  her  eyes,  for  I have  httle  faith  in  such 
natures,  ‘ that  I am  a member  of  a great  secret  society, 
and  if  any  mishap  were  to  happen  to  me,  through 
your  agency,  your  own  life  would  pay  the  immediate 
forfeit.’ 

“She  shrank  back  affrighted,  and  assured  me 
again  of  her  good  faith.  And  as  she  desires  to  be 
quit  of  Estella,  I think  she  will  not  betray  us.” 

“Sunday  Evening,  seven  o’clock. 

“I  resume  my  narrative.  I have  gone  through 
dreadful  scenes  since  I laid  down  my  pen. 

“This  afternoon  about  five  o’clock  the  Prince  rang 
for  me. 

“ ‘Bring  Estella,’  he  said. 

“ I went  at  once  to  her  room.  I found  her  looking 


02 


CESAR’S  COLUMN. 


paler  than  usual.  She  had  the  appearance  of  one 
that  had  not  slept. 

“‘Estella,’  I said,  ‘the  Prince  has  a^ain  sent  for 
you.  I shall  return  and  make  the  same  excuse.  Do 
not  worry — all  will  be  well.  We  are  one  day  nearer 
your  deliverance.’ 

“ I retmmed  and  told  the  Prince  that  Estella  was 
even  worse  than  the  day  before;  that  she  had  a 
high  fever;  and  that  she  apologized  for  not  obeying 
his  summons ; but  that  she  hoped  by  to-morrow  to 
be  well  enough  to  pay  her  respects  to  him. 

“He  was  in  one  of  his  sullen  fits.  I think  Fred- 
erika  had  been  overdoing  her  blandishments,  and  he 
had  become  suspicious ; for  he  is  one  of  the  most  cun- 
ning of  men. 

“ ‘ Frederika  is  behind  this  business,’  he  said. 

“ ‘Behind  what  business,  my  lord?’  I asked. 

“ ‘ This  sickness  of  Estella.  Bring  her  to  me,  ill  or 
well,’  he  replied ; ‘ I want  to  see  her.’ 

“ He  was  in  no  humor  to  be  trified  with;  and  so  I 
returned  to  my  room  to  think  it  over.  1 saw  that 
Estella  would  have  to  barricade  herself  in  her  room. 
How  could  she  support  life  in  the  meantime?  The 
first  requisite  was,  therefore,  food.  I went  at  once  to 
Michael,  the  cook’s  assistant,  who  is  a trusty  friend  of 
mine,  and  secured  from  him,  secretly  and  under  a pledge 
of  silence,  food  enough  to  last  until  the  next  night.  I 
hurried  to  Estella,  told  her  of  her  danger,  and  gave  her 
the  basket  of  provisions.  I instructed  her  to  lock  her 
door. 

“ ‘ If  they  break  it  in,’  I said,  ‘ use  your  knife  on  the 
first  man  that  touches  you.  If  they  send  you  food  or 
drink,  do  not  use  them.  If  they  attempt  to  chloro- 
form you,  stop  up  the  pipe  with  soap.  If  the  worst 


CESAR'S  COLUMN. 


93 


comes  to  the  worst,  use  the  rope-ladder.  If  you  man- 
age to  get  outside  the  garden  gate,  call  a hack  and 
drive  to  that  address.’  Here  I gave  her  your  direc- 
tion on  a small  piece  of  tissue  paper.  ‘If  you  are 
about  to  be  seized,  chew  up  the  paper  and  swallow  it. 
Do  not  in  any  event  destroy  yourself,’  I added,' until 
the  last  desperate  extremity  is  reached;  for  you 
have  a powerful  organization  behind  you,  and  even  if 
recaptured  you  will  be  rescued.  Good-by.’ 

“She  thanked  me  warmly,  and  as  I left  the  room 
I heard  her  again  lock  the  door. 

“I  returned  to  the  Prince,  and  told  him  that  Es- 
tella  had  said  she  was  too  ill  to  leave  her  room,  and 
that  she  refused  to  obey  his  summons.  Unaccus- 
tomed to  contradiction,  especially  in  his  own  house, 
he  grew  furious. 

“ ‘Call  the  servants,’ he  shouted;  ‘we  will  see  who  is 
master  here ! ’ 

“A  few  of  the  men  came  running;  Frederika  en- 
tered with  them ; some  of  the  women  followed.  We 
proceeded  up  stairs  to  Estella’s  door.  The  Prince 
shook  it  violently. 

‘‘‘Open  the  door,’  he  cried,  ‘or  I will  break  it 
down.’ 

“ I began  to  hope  that  he  would  rush  to  the  doom 
he  has  so  long  deserved. 

“ The  calm,  steady  voice  of  Estella  wms  now  heard 
from  within  the  room ; speaking  in  a high  and  ringing 
tone ; 

“ ‘ I appeal  to  my  country.  I demand  the  right  to 
leave  this  house.  I am  an  American  citizen.  The 
Constitution  of  the  United  States  forbids  human 
slavery.  My  fathers  helped  to  found  this  government. 
No  one  has  the  right  to  sell  me  into  the  most  hideous 


94 


CESAR’S  COLUMN. 


bondage.  I come  of  a great  and  noble  race.  I de- 
mand my  release.’ 

“‘Come,  come,  open  the  door,’ cried  the  Prince, 
flinging  himself  against  it  until  it  quivered. 

“The  voice  of  Estella  was  heard  again,  in  solemn 
tones : 

“ ‘ The  man  who  enters  here  dies ! ’ 

“The  cowardly  brute  recoiled  at  once,  with  terror 
on  every  feature  of  his  face. 

“ ‘ Who  will  break  down  that  door,’  he  asked,  ‘and 
bring  out  that  woman?’ 

“There  was  a dead  silence  for  a moment;  then 
Joachim,  abroad-shouldered,  superserviceable knave, 
who  had  always  tried  to  ingratiate  himself  with  the 
Prince  by  spying  upon  the  rest  of  the  servants  and 
tattling,  stepped  forward,  with  an  air  of  bravado, 
and  said,  ‘I  will  bring  her  out.’ 

“‘Go  ahead,’  said  the  Prince,  sullenly. 

“Joachim  made  a rush  at  the  door;  it  trembled 
and  creaked,  but  did  not  yield;  he  moved  farther 
back,  drew  his  breath  hard,  and, — strong  as  a bull,  — 
went  at  it  with  a furious  rush ; the  lock  gave  way, 
the  door  flew  open  and  Joachim  sprawled  upon  the 
floor.  I could  see  Estella  standing  back  near  the  win- 
dow, her  right  arm  was  raised,  and  I caught  the  glit- 
ter of  something  in  her  hand.  In  an  instant  Joachim 
was  on  his  feet  and  approached  her ; I saw  him  grasp 
her ; there  was  a slight  scuffle,  and  the  next  moment 
Joachim  rushed  out  of  the  room,  pale  as  death,  with 
his  hand  to  his  breast,  crying  out : 

“ ‘ Oh ! my  God ! she  has  stabbed  me.’ 

“ He  tore  open  his  shirt  bosom,  and  there  upon  his 
hairy  breast  was  a bloody  spot ; but  the  knife  had 
struck  the  breast-bone  and  inflicted  only  a shallow 


CESAR’S  COLUMN. 


95 


flesh-wound.  Joachim  laughed,  replaced  his  shirt,  and 
said : 

“‘Ah!  I might  have  known  a girl’s  hand  could 
not  strike  a deadly  blow.  I will  bring  her  out,  my 
lord.  Get  me  a rope.’ 

“He  turned  toward  me,  as  he  spoke;  bnt  on  the 
instant  I saw  a sharp  spasm  contract  his  features ; 
he  clapped  his  hand  to  his  heart ; a look  of  surprise 
and  then  of  terror  came  over  his  face. 

“ ‘Oh,  my  God!  ’ he  cried,  ‘I  am  poisoned.’ 

“The  most  awful  shrieks  I ever  heard  broke  from 
him ; and  the  next  moment  his  limbs  seemed  to  lose 
their  strength,  and  he  fell  in  a heap  on  the  floor ; then 
he  rolled  over  and  over ; mighty  convnlsions  swept 
through  him ; he  groaned,  cried,  shrieked,  foamed  at 
the  mouth ; there  was  a sudden  snorting  sound,  and 
he  stiffened  out  and  was  dead. 

“We  fell  back  appalled.  Then  in  the  doorway 
appeared  the  figure  of  Estella,  her  blue  eyes  bright  as 
stars,  her  long  golden  hair  falling  like  a cloak  to  her 
waist,  the  red-tipped  knife  in  her  hand;  she  looked 
like  a Gothic  priestess — aYala  of  Odin — with  the  reek- 
ing human  sacrifice  already  at  her  feet.  The  blood  of 
a long  line  of  heroic  ancestors  thrilled  in  her  veins. 
Stepping  over  the  dead  body,  already  beginning  to 
swell  and  grow  spotted  with  many  colors,  like  a snake, 
she  advanced  toward  the  Prince,  who  stood  in  his 
dressing-gown,  trembling,  and  nearly  as  bloated,  pale 
and  hideons  as  the  wretched  Joachim. 

“‘Is  it  you,’  she  said  — ‘you,  the  dealer  in  hu- 
man flesh  and  blood,  that  has  bought  me?  Come  to 
me,  and  take  possession  of  your  bond-woman ! ’ 

“With  a cry  of  terror  the  Prince  turned  his  back 
and  fled  as  fast  as  his  legs  would  carry  him,  while  all 


C^SAIVS  COLUMN. 


96 

the  rest  of  us  followed  pell-mell.  At  the  end  of  the 
hall  is  a large  iron  door,  used  for  protection  in  case 
of  fire. 

“ ‘Quick,’  shrieked  the  Prince,  ‘lock  the  door!  lock 
the  door  I ’ 

“ This  was  done,  and  he  stopped  to  pant  and  blow 
in  safety.  When  he  had  recovered  his  breath,  he  cried 
out: 

“‘Send  for  the  police!  We  will  have  her  chloro- 
formed.’ 

“I  touched  Frederika  on  the  arm; — she  followed 
me  into  an  open  room.  , 

“ ‘Tell  him,’  I whispered  to  her,  quickly,  ‘tell  him 
that  if  he  calls  in  the  police  there  will  have  to  be  an 
inquest  over  the  dead  body  of  Joachim ; there  may  be 
questions  asked  that  will  be  hard  to  answer.  The 
girl  will  have  to  be  taken  off  to  be  tried  for  murder, 
and  he  will  lose  her.  If  he  attempts  to  use  chloroform 
she  will  stab  herself  with  the  poisoned  knife.  Tell 
him  you  will  drug  her  food  with  narcotics;  that 
hunger  will  eventually  compel  her  to  eat;  and  that 
when  she  sleeps  she  may  be  made  a prisoner,  and  the 
knife  taken  away  from  her.’ 

“The  quick-witted  girl  saw  the  force  of  these  sug- 
gestions, and  ran  after  her  paramour.  She  succeeded 
in  her  mission.  He  fears  the  coming  outbi’eak,  whis- 
pers of  which  are  now  heard  everywhere.  He  has 
recalled  the  order  for  the  police.  He  stipulates,  how- 
ever— for  he  is  suspicious  of  Frederika,  and  fears 
treachery — that  he  is  to  drug  the  food  himself  and  see 
it  placed  in  the  room;  and  he  has  stationed  two 
trusty  guards  at  the  door  of  Estella’s  chamber,  who 
are  to  be  changed  every  eight  hours,  and  who  are 
instructed  that,  whenever  they  think  she  is  asleep. 


CESAR'S  COLUMN. 


97 


one  of  them  is  to  notify  him;  and  carpenters  will 
then  quietly  cut  the  door  from  its  hinges,  and  they 
will  enter,  disarm  her  and  make  her  a prisoner.  Es- 
tella,  I find,  has  barricaded  her  door  with  her  bedstead 
and  the  rest  of  the  furniture.  If  she  sleeps  she  will  wake 
with  any  attempt  to  enter  the  room ; but  she  is  not 
likely,  in  her  present  state  of  high-wrought  excitement, 
to  sleep  at  all ; and  she  will  not  touch  the  drugged 
food  sent  in  to  her.  I have  arranged  with  Frederika, 
who  has  great  authority  in  the  house,  that  on  Mon- 
day night  the  two  watchmen  shall  be  furnished  with 
some  refreshment  containing  morphine;  and  when 
they  are  sound  asleep,  and  the  Prince  busy  with  his 
guests,  she  or  Iwill  go  to  the  room,  carrying  Estella’s 
masculine  disguise,  and  then  bring  her  to  my  room, 
where  she  will  join  your  friend. 

“I  do  not  think  she  is  in  any  present  danger.  Th'' 
poisoned  knife  is  her  safeguard.  The  whole  hous^ 
hold,  after  witnessing  its  terrible  potency,  fear  it  as 
they  would  the  fangs  of  a rattlesnake.  It  was  a 
lucky  thought  that  left  it  with  her. 

“If  your  friend  does  not  fail  us,  all  will  be  well. 

“Farewell.  . 28,263  M 2.” 

I need  not  tell  you,  my  dear  Heinrich,  that  we  both 
followed  this  narrative  with  the  most  rapt  attention 
and  the  most  intense  feeling. 

“Brave  girl!”  I cried,  when  Maximilian  stopped 
reading,  “she  is  worth  dying  for.” 

“Or  living  for,”  said  he,  “which  is  better  still. 
How  she  rose  to  the  occasion  1” 

“Yes,”  I said,  “that  was  blood.” 

“There  is  as  good  stuff  in  the  ranks,”  he  replied, 
“as  ever  came  out  of  them.  The  law  of  heredity  is 
7 


98 


CJESAR'S  COLUMN. 


almost  as  unreliable  as  the  law  of  variation.  Every- 
thing rises  out  of  the  mud,  and  everything  goes  back 
into  it.” 

“ Do  you  think,”  I asked,  after  a pause,  “ that  she 
will  be  safe  until  to-morrow  night?  Should  I not  go 
to  her  at  once?  Could  I not  see  Rudolph  and  have 
her  descend  the  rope-ladder,  and  I meet  her  and  bring 
her  here?” 

“ No,”  he  replied,  “ it  is  now  too  late  for  that ; it  is 
midnight.  You  can  place  full  faith  in  Rudolph ; his 
penetration  and  foresight  are  extraordinary.  He 
will  not  sleep  until  Estella  is  out  of  that  house ; and 
his  busy  brain  will  be  full  of  schemes  in  the  meantime. 
The  best  thing  we  can  do  now  is  to  go  to  bed  and 
prepare,  by  a good  long  sleep,  for  the  excitements  and 
dangers  of  to-morrow  night.  Do  not  fear  for  Estella. 
She  has  ceased  to  be  a child.  In  an  hour  she  has  risen 
to  the  full  majesty  of  her  womanhood.” 


CHAPTER  X. 


PREPARATIONS  FOR  TO-NIGHT. 

The  next  morning  I found  Maximilian  in  confer- 
ence with  a stranger;  a heavily-built,  large-jawed, 
uncommunicative  man.  As  I was  about  to  withdraw 
my  friend  insisted  that  I should  sit  down. 

“We  have  been  making  the  necessary  arrange- 
ments for  next  Monday  night,”  he  said.  “ The  proba- 
bilities are  great  that  we  may  be  followed  when  we 
leave  the  house,  and  traced.  It  will  not  do  to  go, 
as  Rudolph  suggested,  to  the  residence  of  any  friend, 
and  pass  through  it  to  another  carriage.  The 
Oligarchy  would  visit  a terrible  vengeance  on  the 
head  of  the  man  who  so  helped  us  to  escape.  I have 
instructed  ,this  gentleman  to  secure  us,  through  an 
agent,  three  empty  houses  in  different  parts  of  the 
city,  and  he  has  done  so ; they  stand  in  the  center  of 
blocks,  and  have  rear  exits,  opening  upon  other 
streets  or  alleys,-  at  right  angles  with  the  streets  on 
which  the  houses  stand.  Then  in  these  back  streets 
he  is  to  have  covered  carriages  with  the  fleetest 
horses  he  can  obtain.  Our  pursuers,  thinking  we  are 
safely  housed,  may  return  to  report  our  whereabouts 
to  their  masters.  Estella  being  missed  the  next  day, 
the  police  will  visit  the  house,  but  they  will  And  no 
one  there  to  punish ; nothing  but  curtains  over  the 
windows.” 

“But,”  said  I,  “will  they  not  follow  the  carriage 
that  brought  us  there,  and  thus  identify  its  owner 

99 


LOO 


VJiJtSAR’S  COLUMN. 


and  driver,  and  force  them  to  tell  who  employed 
them?” 

“ Of  course ; I have  thought  of  that,  and  provided 
for  it.  There  are  members  of  the  Brotherhood  who 
have  been  brought  from  other  cities  in  disguise,  and 
three  of  these  will  have  another  carriage,  which,  leav- 
ing the  Prince’s  grounds  soon  after  we  do,  will  pursue 
our  pursuers.  They  will  be  well  armed  and  equipped 
with  hand-grenades  of  dynamite.  If  they  perceive 
that  the  spies  cannot  be  shaken  off,  or  that  they  pro- 
pose to  follow  any  of  our  carriages  to  their  stables, 
it  will  be  their  duty  to  swiftly  overtake  the  pursuers, 
and,  as  they  pass  them,  fling  the  explosives  under  the 
horses’  feet,  disabling  or  killing  them.  It  will  take 
the  police  some  time  to  obtain  other  horses,  and  be- 
fore they  can  do  so,  all  traces  of  us  will  be  lost.  If 
necessary,  our  friends  will  not  hesitate  to  blow  up  the 
spies  as  well  as  the  horses.’' 

“But,”  I suggested,  “will  they  not  identify  the 
man  who  rented  the  houses? ” 

Maximilian  laughed. 

“Why,”  said  he,  “my  dear  Gabriel,  you  would 
make  a conspirator  yourself.  We  will  have  to  get 
you  into  the  Brotherhood.  We  are  too  old  to  be 
caught  that  way.  The  man  who  rented  the  houses 
has  been  brought  here  from  a city  hundreds  of  miles 
distant;  he  was  thoroughly  disguised.  As  soon  as  he 
engaged  the  buildings,  and  paid  one  month’s  rent 
in  advance  for  each,  he  left  the  city ; and  before  to- 
morrow night  he  will  be  home  again,  and  without 
his  disguise ; and  he  could  never  be  suspected  or  iden- 
tified as  the  same  man.  And,”  he  added,  “I  do  not 
propose  that  you  shall  go  into  that  lion’s  den  unsup- 
ported. We  will  have  twenty  of  the  Brotherhood, 


CESAR’S  COLUMN. 


101 


under  Rudolph’s  management,  scattered  through  the 
household,  as  servants ; and  three  hundred  more  will 
be  armed  to  the  teeth  and  near  at  hand  in  the  neigh- 
borhood; and  if  it  becomes  necessary  they  will 
storm  the  house  and  burn  it  over  the  villains’  heads, 
rather  than  that  you  or  Estella  shall  come  to  harm.” 

I pressed  his  hand  warmly,  and  thanked  him  for  his 
care  of  me,  and  of  one  so  dear  to  me. 

He  laughed.  “That  is  all  right,”  he  said;  “good 
and  unselfish  men  are  so  scarce  in  this  world  that  one 
cannot  do  too  much  for  them.  We  must  be  careful 
lest,  like  the  dodo  and  the  great  auk,  the  breed  be- 
comes extinct.” 

“But,”  said  I,  “may  not  the  Oligarchy  find  you 
out,  even  here?” 

“ No,”  he  replied,  “ my  identity  is  lost.  Here  I live, 
in  my  real  appearance,  under  a false  name.  But  I 
have  a house  elsewhere,  in  which  I dwell  disguised,  but 
under  my  real  name,  and  with  an  unreal  character. 
Here  I am  a serious,  plotting  conspirator ; there  I am 
a dissipated,  reckless,  foolish  spendthrift,  of  whom  no 
man  need  be  afraid.  It  chanced  that  after  certain 
events  had  occurred,  of  which  I may  tell  you  some 
day,  I did  not  return  home  for  several  years;  and 
then  I came  for  revenge,  with  ample  preparations  for 
my  own  safety.  I resumed  my  old  place  in  society 
with  a new  appearance  and  a new  character.  That 
personage  is  constantly  watched  by  spies ; but  he 
spends  his  time  in  drunkenness  and  deeds  of  folly;  and 
his  enemies  laugh  and  say,  ‘ He  will  never  trouble  us ; 
he  will  be  dead  soon.’  And  so,  with  the  real  name 
and  the  unreal  appearance  and  character  in  one 
place,  and  a false  name,  but  the  real  appearance  and 
character,  in  another,  I lead  a dual  life  and  thwart  the 


102 


CMSAB’S  COLUMN. 


cunning  of  my  enemies,  and  prepare  for  the  day  of  my 
vengeance.” 

His  eyes  glowed  with  a baleful  light  as  he  spoke, 
and  I could  see  that  some  great  injustice,  “like  eager 
droppings  into  milk,”  had  soured  an  otherwise  lov- 
ing and  affectionate  nature.  I put  my  hand  on  his 
and  said : 

“My  dear  Max,  your  enemies  are  my  enemies  and 
your  cause  my  cause,  from  henceforth  forever.” 

His  face  beamed  with  delight,  as  he  replied  : 

“ I may  some  day,  my  dear  Gabriel,  hold  you  to 
that  pledge.” 

“Agreed,”  I responded ; “ at  all  times  I am  ready.” 

He  gave  his  agent  a roll  of  money,  and  with 
mutual  courtesies  they  separated. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

HOW  THE  WORLD  CAME  TO  BE  RUINED. 

We  were  uneasy,  restless,  longing  for  the  night  to 
come.  To  while  away  the  time  we  conversed  upon 
subjects  that  were  near  our  hearts. 

I said  to  Maximilian  while  he  paced  the  room : 

^•How  did  this  dreadful  state  of  affairs,  in  which 
the  world  now  finds  itself,  arise  ? Were  there  no  warn- 
ings uttered  by  any  intelligent  men  ? Did  the  world 
drift  blindly  and  unconsciously  into  this  condition?  ’’ 

^^No,”  said  Maximilian,  going  to  his  library;  ^^no; 
even  a hundred  years  ago  the  air  was  full  of  prophe- 
cies. Here,”  he  said,  laying  his  hand  upon  a book,  is 
The  Century  Magazine,  of  February,  1889 ; and  on 
page  622  we  read : 

' For  my  own  part,  I must  confess  my  fears  that,  unless  some 
important  change  is  made  in  the  constitution  of  our  voting  popu- 
lation, the  breaking  strain  upon  our  political  system  will  come 
within  halt  a century.  Is  it  not  evident  that  our  present  tendencies 
are  in  the  wrong  direction  ? The  rapidly  increasing  use  of  money 
in  elections,  for  the  undisguised  purchase  of  votes,  and  the  grow- 
ing disposition  to  tamper  with  the  ballot  and  the  tally-sheet,  are 
some  of  the  symptoms.  . . . Do  you  think  that  you  will  con- 

vince the  average  election  officer  that  it  is  a great  crime  to  cheat  in 
the  return  of  votes,  when  he  knows  that  a good  share  of  those 
votes  have  been  purchased  with  money?  No;  the  machinery  of 
the  election  will  not  be  kept  free  from  fraud  while  the  atmosphere 
about  the  polls  reeks  with  bribery.  The  system  will  all  go  down 
together.  In  a constituency  which  can  be  bribed  all  the  forms  of 
law  tend  swiftly  to  decay. 

103 


104 


C^SARS  COLUMN. 


“And  here,”  he  said,  picking  up  another  volume, 
“is  a reprint  of  the  choicest  gems  of  The  North  Ameri- 
can Review.  In  the  number  for  March,  1889,  Gen. 
L.  S.  Bryce,  a member  of  Congress,  said : 

We  live  in  a commercial  age— not  in  a military  age;  and  the 
shadow  that  is  stealing  over  the  American  landscape  partakes  of  a 
commercial  character.  In  short,  the  shadow  is  of  an  unbridled 
plutocracy^  caused,  created  and  cemented  in  no  slight  degree  by 
legislative,  aldermanic  and  congressional  action;  a plutocracy 
that  is  far  more  wealthy  than  any  aristocracy  that  has  ever 
crossed  the  horizon  of  the  world^s  history,  and  one  that  has  been 
produced  in  a shorter  consecutive  period;  the  names  of  whose 
members  are  emblazoned,  not  on  the  pages  of  their  nation’s  glory, 
but  of  its  peculations ; w^ho  represent  no  struggle  for  their  coun- 
try’s liberties,  but  for  its  boodle;  no  contests  for  Magna  Charta, 
but  railroad  charters ; and  whose  octopus-grip  is  extending  over 
every  branch  of  industry ; a plutocracy  which  controls  the  price  of 
the  bread  that  we  eat,  the  price  of  the  sugar  that  sweetens  our 
cup,  the  price  of  the  oil  that  lights  us  on  our  way,  the  price  of  the 
very  coffins  in  which  we  are  finally  buried ; a plutocracy  which  en- 
courages no  kindly  relation  between  landlord  and  tenant,  which 
has  so  little  sense  of  its  political  duties  as  even  to  abstain  from 
voting,  and  which,  in  short,  by  its  effrontery,  is  already  causing 
the  unthinking  masses  to  seek  relief  in  communism,  in  single-tax- 
ism,  and  in  every  other  ism,  which,  if  ever  enforced,  would  infallibly 
make  their  second  state  worse  than  the  first. 

“And  here  are  hundreds  of  warnings  of  the  same 
kind.  Even  the  President  of  the  United  States,  in 
that  same  year,  1889,  uttered  this  significant  lan- 
guage : 

Those  who  use  unlawful  methods,  if  moved  by  no  higher  mo- 
tive than  the  selfishness  that  prompted  them,  may  well  stop  and 
inquire.  What  is  to  be  the  end  of  this  ? 

“ Bishop  Potter,  of  New  York,  in  the  national  cere- 
monies, held  April  30,  1889,  which  marked  the  cen- 
tennial anniversary  of  the  first  inauguration  of 


CJESAR’S  COLUMN. 


105 


George  Washington,  spoke  of  the  plutocracy,  which 
had  already  reached  alarming  proportions,  and 
expressed  his  doubts  whether  the  Republic  would 
ever  celebrate  another  centennial.  Afterwards,  in 
explaining  his  remarks,  he  said : 

When  I speak  of  this  as  the  era  of  the  plutocrats,  nobody  can 
misunderstand  me.  Everybody  has  recognized  the  rise  of  the 
money  power.  Its  growth  not  merely  stifles  the  independence  of 
the  people,  but  the  blind  believers  in  this  omnipotent  power  of 
money  assert  that  its  liberal  use  condones  every  offense.  The 
pulpit  does  not  speak  out  as  it  should.  These  plutocrats  are  the 
enemies  of  religion,  as  they  are  of  the  state.  And,  not  to  mince 
matters,  I will  say  that,  while  I had  the  politicians  in  mind  promi- 
nently, there  “ are  others.”  I tell  you  I have  heard  the  corrupt  use 
of  money  in  elections  and  the  sale  of  the  sacred  right  of  the  ballot 
openly  defended  by  ministers  of  the  gospel.  I may  And  it  necessary 
to  put  such  men  of  the  sacred  office  in  the  public  pillory. 

“And  Bishop  Spalding,  of  Peoria,  Illinois,  about 
the  same  time,  said : 

Mark  my  words,-  the  saloon  in  America  has  become  a public 
nuisance.  The  liquor  trade,  by  meddling  with  politics  and  corrupt- 
ing politics,  has  become  a menace  and  a danger.  Those  who  think 
and  those  who  love  America  and  those  who  love  liberty  are  going 
to  bring  this  moral  question  into  politics  more  and  more;  also 
this  question  of  bribery,  this  question  of  lobbying,  this  question  of 
getting  measures  through  state  and  national  legislatures  by  cor- 
rupt means.  They  are  going  to  be  taken  hold  of.  Our  press,  which 
has  done  so  much  to  enlighten  our  people,  which  represents  so 
much  that  is  good  in  our  civilization,  must  also  be  reformed.  It 
must  cease  to  pander  to  such  an  extent  to  the  low  and  sensual 
appetites  of  man.  My  God,  man  is  animal  enough ! You  don’t 
want  to  pander  to  his  pruriency!  You  don’t  want  to  pander  to 
the  beast  that  is  in  him.  . . . Our  rich  men— and  they  are 

numerous,  and  their  wealth  is  great — their  number  and  their 
wealth  will  increase — but  our  rich  men  must  do  their  duty  or 
perish.  I tell  you,  in  America,  we  will  not  tolerate  vast  wealth 
in  the  hands  of  men  who  do  nothing  for  the  people. 


106 


C^SAWS  COLUMN. 


“And  here  is  a still  more  remarkable  article,  by  Dr. 
William  Barry,  in  The  Forum  for  April,  1889.  He 
speaks  of — 

The  concrete  system  of  capitalism,  which  in  its  present  shape 
is  not  much  more  than  a century  old,  and  goes  back  to  Ark- 
wright’s introduction  of  the  spinning- jenny  in  1776 — that  notable 
year— as  to  its  hegira  or  divine  epoch  of  creation. 

‘‘And  again  he  says : 

This  it  is  that  justifies  Von  Hartmann’s  description  of  the 
nineteenth  century  as  “the  most  irreligious  that  has  ever  been 
seen;”  this  and  not  the  assault  upon  dogma  or  the  decline  of  the 
churches.  There  is  a depth  below  atheism, below  anti-religion,  and 
into  that  the  age  has  fallen.  It  is  the  callous  indifference  to  every- 
thing which  does  not  make  for  wealth.  . . . Whatis  eloquently  de- 
scribed as  “the  progress  of  civilization,”  as  “material  prosperity,” 
and  “unexampled  wealth,”  or,  more  modestly,  as  “the  rise  of  the 
industrial  middle  class,”  becomes,  when  we  look  into  it  with  eyes 
purged  from  economic  delusions,  the  creation  of  a “lower  and  lowest’  ’ 
class,  without  land  of  their  own,  without  homes,  tools  or  property 
beyond  the  strength  of  their  hands ; whose  lot  is  more  helplessly 
wretched  than  any  poet  of  the  Inferno  has  yet  imagined.  Sunk  in 
the  mire  of  ignorance,  want  and  immorality,  they  seem  to  have  for 
their  only  gospel  the  emphatic  words  attributed  to  Mr.  Euskin : 
“ If  there  is  a next  world  they  will  be  damned ; and  if  there  is  none, 
they  are  damned  already.”  . . . Have  all  these  things  come  to 
pass  that  the  keeper  of  a whisky-shop  in  California  may  grow  rich 
on  the  spoils  of  drunken  miners,  and  great  financiers  dictate  peace 
and  war  to  venerable  European  monarchies?  The  most  degraded 
superstition  that  ever  called  itself  religion  has  not  preached  such  a 
dogma  as  this.  It  falls  below  fetichism.  The  worship  of  the  al- 
mighty dollar,  incarnate  in  the  self-made  capitalist,  is  a deification 
at  which  Vespasian  himself,  with  his  puto,  deus  ^o,”  would 
stare  and  gasp. 

“And  this  remarkable  article  concludes  with  these 
words  of  prophecy : 

The  agrarian  difficulties  of  Eussia,  France,  Italy,  Ireland,  and 
of  wealthy  England,  show  us  that  ere  long  the  urban  and  the 


C^SAB’S  COLUMN. 


107 


rural  populations  will  be  standing  in  the  same  camp.  They  will 
be  demanding  the  abolition  of  that  great  and  scandalous  paradox 
whereby,  though  production  has  increased  three  or  four  times  as 
much  as  the  mouths  it  should  fill,  those  mouths  are  empty.  The 
backs  it  should  clothe  are  naked;  the  heads  it  should  shelter,  home- 
less ; the  brains  it  should  feed,  dull  or  criminal,  and.  the  souls  it 
should  help  to  save,  brutish.  Surely  it  is  time  that  science,  morality 
and  religion  should  speak  out.  A great  change  is  coming.  It  is 
even  now  at  our  doors.  Ought  not  men  of  good  will  to  consider 
how  they  shall  receive  it,  so  that  its  coming  may  be  peaceable  ? 

“And  here,”  Max  added,  “is  the  great  work  of 
Prof.  Scheligan,  in  which  he  quotes  from  The  Forum, 
of  December,  1889,  p.  464,  a terrible  story  of  the  rob- 
beries practiced  on  the  farmers  by  railroad  companies 
and  money-lenders.  The  railroads  in  1882  took,  he 
tells  us,  one-half  of  the  entire  wheat  crop  of  Kansas 
to  carry  the  other  half  to  market ! In  the  thirty- 
eight  years  following  1850  the  railroad  interest  of 
the  United  States  increased  1580  per  cent.;  the  bank- 
ing interest  918  per  cent.,  and  the  farming  interest 
only  252  per  cent.  A man  named  Thomas  G.  Shear- 
man showed,  in  1889,  that  100,000  persons  in  the 
United  States  would,  in  thirty  years,  at  the  rate  at 
which  wealth  was  being  concentrated  in  the  hands  of 
the  few,  own  three-hfths  of  all  the  property  of  the 
entire  country.  The  American  Economist  asserted, 
in  1889,  that  in  twenty-five  years  the  number 
of  people  in  the  United  States  who  owned  their 
own  homes  had  fallen  from  five-eighths  to  three- 
eighths.  A paper  called  The  Progress,  of  Boston, 
in  1889,  gave  the  following  significant  and  prophetic 
figures ; 

The  eloquent  Patrick  Henry  said:  “We  can  only  judge  thv 
future  by  the  past.” 

Look  at  the  past : 


108 


C^SAR^S  COLUMN. 


When  Egypt  went  down  2 per  cent,  of  her  population  owned  97 
per  cent,  of  her  wealth.  The  people  were  starved  to  death. 

When  Babylon  went  down  2 per  cent,  of  her  population  owned 
all  the  wealth.  The  people  were  starved  to  death. 

When  Persia  went  down  1 per  cent,  of  her  population  owned 
the  land. 

When  Eome  went  down  1,800  men  owned  all  the  known  world. 

There  are  about  40,000,000  people  in  England,  Ireland  and 
Wales,  and  100,000  people  own  all  the  land  in  the  United  King- 
dom. 

For  the  past  twenty  years  the  United  States  has  rapidly 
followed  in  the  steps  of  these  old  nations.  Here  are  the  figures: 

In  1850  capitalists  owned  371^  per  cent,  of  the  nation’s  wealth. 

In  1870  they  owned  63  per  cent. 

“In  1889,  out  of  1,500,000  people  living  in  New 
York  City,  1,100,000  dwelt  in  tenement-houses. 

“At  the  same  time  farm-lands,  east  and  west,  had 
fallen,  in  twenty-five  years,  to  one-third  or  one-half 
their  cost.  State  Assessor  Wood,  of  New  York, 
declared,  in  1889,  that,  in  his  opinion,  4n  a few  de- 
cades there  will  be  none  but  tenant  farmers  in  this 
State.’* 

“In  1889  the  farm  mortgages  in  the  Western 
States  amounted  to  three  billion  four  hundred  and 
twenty-two  million  dollars.” 

“Did  these  wonderful  utterances  and  most  sig- 
nificant statistics,”  I asked,  “produce  no  effect  on 
that  age?” 

“ None  at  all,”  he  replied.  “ ‘ Wisdom  cries  in  the 
streets,  and  no  man  regards  her.’  The  small  voice 
of  Philosophy  was  unheard  amid  the  blare  of  the 
trumpets  that  heralded  successful  knavery ; the 
rabble  ran  headlong  to  the  devil  after  gauds  and 
tinsel.” 

^See  Popular  Science  Monthly,  November,  1889,  p.  28. 


C^SAR^S  COLUMN. 


i09 


“Have  there  been,”  1 asked,  “no  later  notes  of 
warning  of  the  coming  catastrophe?  ” 

“ Oh,  yes,”  he  replied;  “ ten  thousand.  All  through 
the  past  century  the  best  and  noblest  of  each  genera- 
tion, wherever  and  whenever  they  could  find  news- 
papers or  magazines  that  dared  to  publish  their 
utterances,  poured  forth,  in  the  same  earnest  tones, 
similar  prophecies  and  appeals.  But  in  vain.  Each 
generation  found  thecondition  of  things  more  desper- 
ate and  hopeless : every  year  multiplied  the  calami- 
ties of  the  world.  The  fools  could  not  see  that  a 
great  cause  must  continue  to  operate  until  checked 
by  some  higher  power.  And  here  there  was  no  higher 
power  that  desired  to  check  it.  As  the  domination 
and  arrogance  of  the  ruling  class  increased^,  the  ca- 
pacity of  the  lower  classes  to  resist,  within  the  limits 
of  law  and  constitution,  decreased.  Every  avenue,  in 
fact,  was  blocked  by  corruption.  Juries,  courts,  legis- 
latures, congresses,  they  were  as  if  they  were  not. 
The  people  were  walled  in  by  impassable  barriers. 
Nothing  was  left  them  but  the  primal,  brute  instincts 
of  the  animal  man,  and  upon  these  they  fell  back,  and 
the  Brotherhood  of  Destruction  arose.  But  no  words 
can  tell  the  sufferings  that  have  been  endured  by  the 
good  men,  here  and  there,  who,  during  the  past  cen- 
tury, tried  to  save  mankind.  Some  were  simply 
ostracised  from  social  intercourse  wdth  their  caste ; 
others  were  deprived  of  their  means  of  living  and 
forced  down  into  the  ranks  of  the  wretched ; and  still 
others” — and  here,  I observed,  his  face  grew  ashy 
pale,  and  the  muscles  about  his  mouth  twitched  nerv- 
ously— “still  others  had  their  liberty  sworn  away 
by  purchased  perjury,  and  w'ere  consigned  to  prisons, 
where  they  still  languish,  dressed  in  the  hideous  garb 


110 


CjESAR’S  column. 


of  ignominy,  and  performing  the  vile  tasks  of  felons.” 
After  a panse,  for  I saw  he  was  strangely  disturbed, 
I said  to  him : 

“ How  comes  it  that  the  people  have  so  long  sub- 
mitted to  these  great  wrongs  ? Did  they  not  resist  ?” 

“They  did,”  he  replied;  “but  the  fruit  of  the  tree 
of  evil  was  not  yet  ripe.  At  the  close  of  the  nineteenth 
century,  in  all  the  great  cities  of  America,  there  was 
a terrible  outbreak  of  the  workingmen;  they  de- 
stroyed much  property  and  many  lives,  and  held 
possession  of  the  cities  for  several  days.  But  the 
national  government  called  for  volunteers,  and  hun- 
dreds of  thousands  of  warlike  young  men,  sons  of 
farmers,  sprang  to  arms  : and,  after  several  terrible 
battles,  they  suppressed  the  revolution,  with  the 
slaughter  of  tens  of  thousands  of  those  who  took 
oart  in  it;  while  afterwards  the  revengeful  Oligarchy 
sent  thousands  of  others  to  the  gallows.  And  since 
then,  in  Europe  and  America,  there  have  been  other 
outbreaks,  but  all  of  them  terminated  in  the  same 
way.  The  condition  of  the  world  has,  however, 
steadily  grown  worse  and  worse;  the  laboring  classes 
have  become  more  and  more  desperate.  The  farmers’ 
sons  could,  for  generations,  be  counted  upon  to  fight 
the  workmen ; but  the  fruit  has  been  steadily  ripen- 
ing. Now  the  yeomanry  have  lost  possession  of  their 
lands;  their  farms  have  been  sold  under  their  feet; 
cunning  laws  transferred  the  fruit  of  their  industry 
into  the  pockets  of  great  combinations,  who  loaned 
it  back  to  them  again,  secured  by  mortgages ; and, 
as  the  pressure  of  the  same  robbery  still  continued, 
they  at  last  lost  their  homes  by  means  of  the  very 
wealth  they  had  themselves  produced.  Now  a single 
nabob  owns  a whole  county ; and  a state  is  divided 


CESAR’S  COLUMN. 


Ill 


between  a few  great  loan  associations ; and  the  men 
who  once  tilled  the  fields,  as  their  owners,  are  driven 
to  the  cities  to  swell  the  cohorts  of  the  miserable,  or 
remain  on  the  land  a wretched  peasantry,  to 
contend  for  the  means  of  life  with  vile  hordes  of  Mon- 
golian coolies.  And  all  this  in  sight  of  the  ruins  of 
the  handsome  homes  their  ancestors  once  occupied ! 
Hence  the  materials  for  armies  have  disappeared. 
Human  greed  has  eaten  away  the  very  foundations 
on  which  it  stood.  And  of  the  farmers  who  still  re- 
main nearly  all  are  now  members  of  our  Brother- 
hood. When  the  Great  Day  comes,  and  the  nation 
sends  forth  its  call  for  volunteers,  as  in  the  past, 
that  cry  will  echo  in  desolate  places ; or  it  will  ring 
through  the  triumphant  hearts  of  savage  and  des- 
perate men  who  are  hastening  to  the  banquet  of 
blood  and  destruction.  And  the  wretched,  yellow, 
under-fed  coolies,  with  women’s  garments  over  thejr 
effeminate  limbs,  will  not  have  the  courage  or  the 
desire  or  the  capacity  to  make  soldiers  and  defend 
them  oppressors.” 

“But  have  not  the  Oligarchy  standing  armies?” 
I asked. 

“Yes.  In  Europe,  however,  they  have  been  con- 
strained, by  inability  to  wring  more  taxes  from 
the  impoverished  people,  to  gradually  diminish  their 
numbers.  There,  you  know,  the  real  government  is 
now  a coterie  of  bankers,  mostly  Israelites ; and  the 
kings  and  queens,  and  so-called  presidents,  are  mere 
toys  and  puppets  in  their  hands.  All  idea  of  national 
glory,  all  chivalry,  all  pride,  all  battles  for  terri- 
tory or  supremacy  have  long  since  ceased.  Europe 
is  a banking  association  conducted  exclusively  for 
the  benefit  of  the  bankers.  Bonds  take  the  place 


112 


CmARS  COLUMN. 


of  national  aspirations.  To  squeeze  the  wretched  is 
the  great  end  of  government ; to  toil  and  submit,  the 
destiny  of  the  peoples. 

“The  task  which  Hannibal  attempted,  so  disas- 
trously, to  subject  the  Latin  and  mixed-Gothic  races 
of  Europe  to  the  domination  of  the  Semitic  blood,  as 
represented  in  the  merchant-city  of  Carthage,  has 
been  successfully  accomplished  in  these  latter  days 
by  the  cousins  of  the  Phoenicians,  the  Israelites.  The 
nomadic  children  of  Abraham  have  fought  and 
schemed  their  way,  through  infinite  depths  of  per- 
secution, from  their  tents  on  the  plains  of  Palestine, 
to  a power  higher  than  the  thrones  of  Europe.  The 
world  is  to-day  Semitized.  The  children  of  Japhet 
lie  prostrate  slaves  at  the  feet  of  the  children  of 
Shem;  and  the  sons  of  Ham  bow  humbly  before 
their  august  dominion. 

“ The  standing  armies  of  Europe  are  now  simply 
armed  police ; for,  as  all  the  nations  are  owned  by  one 
power — the  money  power — there  is  no  longer  any 
danger  of  their  assaulting  each  other.  But  in  the 
greed  of  the  sordid  commercial  spirit  which  domi- 
nates the  continent  they  have  reduced,  not  only  the 
numbers,  but  the  pay  of  the  soldiers,  until  it  is  little 
better  than  the  compensation  earned  by  the  wretched 
loeasantry  and  the  mechanics;  while  years  of  peace 
ond  plunder  have  made  the  rulers  careless  and  secure. 
Hence  our  powerful  association  has  spread  among 
these  people  like  wild-fire : the  very  armies  are  honey- 
combed with  our  ideas,  and  many  of  the  soldiers 
belong  to  the  Brotherhood. 

‘ Here,  in  America,  they  have  been  wise  enough  to 
pay  the  soldiers  of  their  standing  army  better  sala- 
ries; and  hence  they  do  not  so  readily  sympathize 


(LESAIVS  COLUMN. 


ns 


with  oui’  purposes.  But  we  outiminber  them  ten  to  one, 
and  do  not  fear  them.  There  is,  however,  one  great 
obstacle  which  we  have  not  yet  seen  the  way  to  over- 
come. More  than  a century  ago,  you  know,  dirigible 
air-ships  were  invented.  The  Oligarchy  have  a large 
force  of  several  thousands  of  these,  sheathed  with 
that  light  but  strong  metal,  aluminium ; in  popular 
speech  they  are  known  as  The  Demons.  Sailing  over 
a hostile  force,  they  drop  into  its  midst  great  bombs, 
loaded  with  the  most  deadly  explosives,  mixed  with 
bullets ; and,  where  one  of  these  strikes  the  ground, 
it  looks  like  the  crater  of  an  extinct  volcano ; while 
leveled  rows  of  dead  are  strewed  in  every  direction 
around  it.  But  this  is  not  all.  Some  years  since  a 
French  chemist  discovered  a dreadful  preparation,  a 
subtle  poison,  which,  falling  upon  the  ground,  being 
heavier  than  the  air  and  yet  expansive,  rolls,  ‘ like  a 
slow  blot  that  spreads,’  steadily  over  the  earth  in 
all  directions,  bringing  sudden  death  to  those  that 
breathe  it.  The  Frenchman  sold  the  secret  of  its 
preparation  to  the  Oligarchy  for  a large  sum;  but 
he  did  not  long  enjoy  his  ill-gotten  wealth.  He  was 
found  dead  in  his  bed  the  next  day,  poisoned  by  the 
air  from  a few  drops  of  his  owm  invention ; killed,  it  is 
supposed,  by  the  governments,  so  that  they  would 
possess  forever  the  exclusive  monopoly  of  this  terrible 
instrument  of  slaughter.  It  is  upon  this  that  they 
principally  rely  for  defense  from  the  uprisings  of  the 
oppressed  people.  These  air-ships,  ‘the  Demons,’  are 
furnished  with  bombs,  loaded  with  this  powerful 
poison;  and,  when  an  outbreak  occurs,  they  sail, 
like  great,  foul  birds,  dark-winged  and  terrible,  over 
the  insurgents;  they  let  fall  a single  bomb,  which 
inspires  such  terror  in  the  multitude  that  those  not 
8 


114 


C^SAR'B  COLUMN. 


instantaneously  killed  by  the  poison  fly  with  the 
utmost  speed;  and  the  contest  is  at  an  end.  We 
have  long  labored  to  bring  the  men  who  arm  these 
air-ships,  and  who  manufacture  this  poison,  into 
our  organization,  but  so  far  without  success.  The 
Oligarchy  knows  their  value,  and  pays  them  well. 
We  have,  however,  bribed  one  or  two  of  their  men, 
not  themselves  in  the  secret,  but  who  have  inspired 
the  others  to  make  demand  after  demand  upon 
the  government  for  increased  pay,  knowing  that 
they  held  everything  in  their  power.  The  Oli- 
garchy has  been  constrained  to  yield  to  these 
demands,  which  have  only  led,  under  our  inspiration, 
to  still  greater  claims ; and  it  is  our  hope  that  before 
long  the  rulers  will  refuse  to  go  farther  in  that  direc- 
tion ; and  then,  in  the  discontent  that  will  inevitably 
follow,  the  men  will  yield  to  our  approaches.  It  will 
be  the  old  story  over  again — the  army  that  was 
called  in  to  defend  effete  Eome  at  last  took  posses- 
sion of  the  empire  and  elected  the  emperors.  This  is 
the  fate  that  cruelty  and  injustice  ultimately  bring 
upon  their  own  heads — they  are  devoured  by  their 
instruments.  As  Manfred  says : 

“ ‘ The  spirits  I have  raised  abandon  me ; 

The  spells  that  I had  recked  of  torture  me.’  ” 

“You  are  right,”  I replied ; “there  is  nothing  that 
will  insure  permanent  peace  but  universal  justice: 
that  is  the  only  soil  that  grows  no  poisons.  Univer- 
sal justice  means  equal  opportunities  for  all  men 
and  a repression  by  law  of  those  gigantic  abnormal 
selfishnesses  which  ruin  millions  for  the  benefit  of 
thousands.  In  the  old  days  selfishness  took  the 
form  of  conquest,  and  the  people  were  reduced  to 


CjESAR^S  column. 


115 


serfs.  Then,  in  a later  age,  it  assumed  the  shape  of 
individual  robbery  and  murder.  Laws  were  made 
against  tliese  crimes.  Then  it  broke  forth  in  the 
shape  of  subtle  combinations,  ^ rings,’  or  ^trusts,’  as 
they  called  them,  corporations,  and  all  the  other 
cunning  devices  of  the  day,  some  of  which  scarcely 
manifested  themselves  on  the  surface,  but  which 
transferred  the  substance  of  one  man  into  the  pockets 
of  another,  and  reduced  the  people  to  slavery  as 
completely  and  inevitably  as  ever  the  robber  barons 
of  old  did  the  original  owners  of  the  soil  of  Europe.” 


imPTER  XII. 

Gabriel’s  utopia. 

“ But  what  would  you  do,  my  good  Gabriel,”  said 
Maximilian, smiling,  “if  th^ reformation  of  the  world 
were  placed  in  your  hands?  Every  man  has  an 
Utopia  in  his  head.  Give  me  some  idea  of  yours.” 

“First,”  I said,  “I  should  do  away  with  all  inter- 
est on  money.  Interest  on  money  is  the  root  and 
ground  of  the  world’s  troubles.  It  puts  one  man  in  a 
position  of  safety,  while  another  is  in  a condition  of 
insecurity,  and  thereby  it  at  once  creates  a radical 
distinction  in  human  society.  ” 

“ How  do  you  make  that  out?  ” he  asked. 

“ The  lender  takes  a mortgage  on  the  borrower’s 
land  'or  house,  or  goods,  for,  we  will  say,  one-half  or 
one-third  their  value;  the  borrower  then  assumes 
all  the  chances  of  life  in  his  efforts  to  repay  the  loan. 
If  he  is  a farmer,  he  has  to  run  the  risk  of  the  fickle 
elements.  Rains  may  drown,  droughts  may  burn  up 
his  crops.  If  a merchant,  he  encounters  all  the  haz- 
ards of  trade ; the  bankruptcy  of  other  tradesmen ; 
the  hostility  of  the  elements  sweeping  away  agri- 
culture, and  so  affecting  commerce;  the  tempests 
that  smite  his  ships,  etc.  If  a mechanic,  he  is  still 
more  dependent  upon  the  success  of  all  above  him, 
and  the  mutations  of  commercial  prosperity.  He 
may  lose  employment ; he  may  sicken ; he  may  die. 
But  behind  all  these  risks  stands  the  money-lender, 
in  perfect  security.  The  failure  of  his  customer  only 

ii6 


CJSSAn’S  COLUMN. 


117 


enriches  him;  for  he  takes  for  his  loan  property 
worth  twice  or  thrice  the  sum  he  has  advanced  upon 
it.  Given  a million  of  men  and  a hundred  years  of 
time,  and  the  slightest  advantage  possessed  by  any 
one  class  among  the  million  must  result,,  in  the'long 
run,  in  the  most  startling  discrepancies  of  condition. 
A little  evil  grows  like  a ferment — it  never  ceases  to 
operate;  it  is  always  at  work.  Suppose  I'  bring 
before  you  a handsome,  rosy-cheeked  young  man,  full 
of  life  and  hope  and  health.  I touch  his  lip  with  a 
single  bacillus  of  phthisis  pulmonalis — consumption. 
It  is  invisible  to  the  eye;  it  is  too  small  to  be  weighed. 
Judged  by  all  the  tests  of  the  senses,  it  is  too  insig- 
nificant to  be  thought  of;  but  it  has  the  capacity  to 
multiply  itself  indefinitely.  The  youth  goes  off  sing- 
ing. Months,  perhaps  years,  pass  before  the  deadly 
disorder  begins  to  manifest  itself;  but  in  time  the  step 
loses  its  elasticity;  the  eyes  become  dull;  the  roses 
fade  from  the  cheeks ; the  strength  departs,  and  event- 
ually the  joyous  youth  is  but  a shell — a cadaverous, 
shrunken  form,  inclosing  a shocking  mass  of  putrid- 
ity; and  death  ends  the  dreadful  scene.  Give  one  set 
of  men  in  a community  a financial  advantage  over 
the  rest,  however  slight — it  may  be  almost  invis- 
ible— and  at  the  end  of  centuries  that  class  so 
favored  will  own  everything  and  wreck  the  country. 
A penny,  they  say,  put  out  at  interest  the  day 
Columbus  sailed  from  Spain,  and  compounded  ever 
since,  would  amount  now  to  more  than  all  the 
assessed  value  of  all  the  property,  real,  personal 
and  mixed,  on  the  two  continents  of  North  and 
South  America.” 

“But,”  said  Maximilian,  “how  would  the  men  get 
along  who  wanted  to  borrow?” 


118 


CESAR’S  COLUMN. 


“ The  necessity  to  borrow  is  one  of  tne  results  of 
borrowing.  The  disease  produces  the  symptoms. 
The  men  who  are  enriched  by  borrowing  are  in- 
finitely less  in  number  than  those  who  are  ruined 
by  it ; and  every  disaster  to  the-  middle  class  swells 
the  number  and  decreases  the  opportunities  of  the 
helplessly  poor.  Money  in  itself  is  valueless.  It 
becomes  valuable  only  by  use — by  exchange  for 
things  needful  for  life  or  comfort.  If  money  could  not 
be  loaned,  it  would  have  to  be  put  out  by  the  owner 
of  it  in  business  enterprises,  which  would  employ 
labor ; and  as  the  enterprise  would  not  then  have  to 
support  a double  burden — to  wit,  the  man  engaged 
in  it  and  the  usurer  who  sits  securely  upon  his  back — 
but  would  have  to  maintain  only  the  former  usurer — 
that  is,  the  present  employer— its  success  would  be 
more  certain;  the  general  prosperity  of  the  com- 
munity would  be  increased  thereby,  and  there  would 
be  therefore  more  enterprises,  more  demand  for  labor, 
and  consequently  higher  wages.  Usury  kills  off  the 
enterprising  members  of  a community  by  bankrupting 
them,  and  leaves  only  the  very  rich  and  the  very  poor; 
for  every  dollar  the  employers  of  labor  pay  to  the 
lenders  of  money  has  to  come  eventually  out  of  the 
pockets  of  the  laborers.  Usury  is  therefore  the  cause 
of  the  first  aristocracy,  and  out  of  this  grow  all  the 
other  aristocracies.  Inquire  where  the  money  came 
from  that  now  oppresses  mankind,  in  the  shape  of 
great  corporations,  combinations,  etc.,  and  in  nine 
cases  out  of  ten  you  will  trace  it  back  to  the  fountain 
of  interest  on  money  loaned.  Thecoral  island  is  built 
out  of  the  bodies  of  dead  coral  insects ; large  fortunes 
are  usually  the  accumulations  of  wreckage,  and  every 
dollar  represents  disaster.’' 


CJESAR’S  COLUMN. 


119 


“ Well,”  said  Maximilian,  “ having  abolished  usury, 
in  your  Utopia,  what  would  you  do  next?  ” 

“I  would  set  to  work  to  make  a list  of  all  the  laws, 
or  parts  of  laws,  or  customs,  or  conditions  which, 
either  by  commission  or  omission,  gave  any  man  an 
advantage  over  any  other  man;  or  which  tended 
to  concentrate  the  wealth  of  the  community  in  the 
hands  of  a few.  And  having  found  out  just  what 
these  wrongs  or  advantages  were,  I would  abolish 
them  instanter.” 

“Well,  let  us  suppose,”  said  Maximilian,  “that 
you  were  not  immediately  murdered  by  the  men  whose 
privileges  you  had  destroyed — even  as  the  Gracchi 
were  of  old — what  would  you  do  next?  Men  differ 
in  every  detail.  Some  have  more  industry,  or  more 
strength,  or  more  cunning,  or  more  foresight,  or 
more  acquisitiveness  than  others.  How  are  you  to 
prevent  these  men  from  becoming  richer  than  the 
rest?” 

“I  should  not  try  to,”  I said.  “These  differences 
in  men  are  fundamental,  and  not  to  be  abolished 
by  legislation ; neither  are  the  instincts  you  speak  of 
in  themselves  injurious.  Civilization,  in  fact,  rests 
upon  them.  It  is  only  in  their  excess  that  they  be- 
come destructive.  It  is  right  and  wise  and  proper 
for  men  to  accumulate  sufficient  wealth  to  maintain 
their  age  in  peace,  dignity  and  plenty,  and  to  be  able 
to  start  their  children  into  the  arena  of  life  suffi- 
ciently equipped.  A thousand  men  in  a community 
worth  fl0,000  or  f50,000,  or  even  fl00,000  each, 
may  be  a benefit,  perhaps  a blessing;  but  one  man 
Avorth  fifty  or  one  hundred  millions,  or,  as  we  have 
them  now-a-days,  one  thousand  millions,  is  a threat 
against  the  safety  and  happiness  of  every  man  in  the 


120 


CJiSAR’S  COLUMN. 


world.  I should  establish  a maximum  beyond  which 
no  man  could  own  property.  I should  not  stop  his 
accumulations  when  he  had  reached  that  point,  for 
with  many  men  accumulation  is  an  instinct ; but  I 
should  require  him  to  invest  the  surplus,  under  the 
direction  of  a governmental  board  of  management, 
in  great  works  for  the  benefit  of  the  laboring  classes. 
He  should  establish  schools,  colleges,  orphan  asy- 
lums, hospitals,  model  residences,  gardens,  parks, 
libraries,  baths,  places  of  amusement,  music-halls, 
sea-side  excursions  in  hot  weather,  fuel  societies  in 
cold  weather,  etc.,  etc.  I should  permit  him  to  secure 
immortality  by  affixing  his  name  to  his  benevolent 
works ; and  I should  honor  him  still  further  by  plac- 
ing his  statue  in  a great  national  gallery  set  apart 
to  perpetuate  forever  the  memory  of  the  benefactors 
of  the  race.” 

“But,”  said  Maximilian,  with  a smile,  “it  would 
not  take  long  for  your  rich  men,  with  their  surplus 
wealth,  to  establish  all  those  works  you  speak  of. 
What  would  you  do  with  the  accumulations  of  the 
rest?” 

“Well,”  said  I,  “we  should  find  plenty  to  do.  We 
would  put  their  money,  for  instance,  into  a great 
fund  and  build  national  railroads,  that  would  bring 
the  productions  of  the  farmers  to  the  workmen,  and 
those  of  the  workmen  to  the  farmers,  at  the  least 
cost  of  transportation,  and  free  from  the  exactions 
of  speculators  and  middlemen.  Thus  both  farmers 
and  workmen  would  live  better,  at  less  expense  and 
with  less  toil.” 

“All  very  pretty,”  said  he;  “but  your  middlemen 
would  starve.” 

“Not  at  all,”  I replied ; “the  cunning  never  starve. 


CESAR’S  COLUMN. 


121 


There  would  be  such  a splendid  era  of  universal  pros- 
perity that  they  would  simply  turn  their  skill  and 
shrewdness  into  some  new  channels,  in  which,  how- 
ever, they  would  have  to  give  something  of  benefit, 
as  an  equivalent  for  the  benefits  they  received.  Now 
they  take  the  cream,  and  butter,  and  beef,  while 
some  one  else  has  to  raise,  feed  and  milk  the  cow.” 

“But,”  said  he,  “all  this  would  not  help  our 
farmers  in  their  present  condition — they  are  blotted 
off  the  land.” 

“True,”  I replied;  “but  just  as  I limited  a man’s 
possible  wealth,  so  should  1 limit  the  amount  of  land 
he  could  own.  I would  fix  a maximum  of,  say,  100 
or  500  acres,  or  whatever  amount  might  be  deemed 
just  and  reasonable.  I should  abolish  all  corpora-  i 
tions,  or  turn  them  back  into  individual  partner- 
ships. Abraham  Lincoln,  in  the  great  civil  war  of 
the  last  century,  gave  the  Southern  insurgents  so 
many  days  in  which  to  lay  down  their  arms  or  lose 
their  slaves.  In  the  same  way  I slmuld  grant  one  or 
two  years’  time,  in  which  the  great  owners  of  land 
should  sell  their  estates,  in  small  tracts,  to  actual 
occupants,  to  be  paid  for  in  installments,  on  long 
time,  without  interest.  And  if  they  did  not  do  so, 
then,  at  the  end  of  the  period  prescribed,  I should 
confiscate  the  lands  and  sell  them,  as  the  govern- 
ment in  the  old  time  sold  the  public  lands,  for  so 
much  per  acre,  to  actual  settlers,  and  turn  the  pro- 
ceeds over  to  the  former  owners.” 

“But,  as  you  had  abolished  interest  on  money, 
there  could  be  no  mortgages,  and  the  poor  men 
would  starve  to  death  before  they  could  raise  a 
crop.”  ^ 

“Then,”  I replied,  “I  should  invoke  the  power  of 


122 


CESAR’S  COLUMN. 


the  nation,  as  was  done  in  that  great  civil  war  of 
1861,  and  issue  paper  money,  receivable  for  all 
taxes,  and  secured  by  the  guarantee  of  the  faith  and 
power  of  five  hundred  million  people;  and  make 
advances  to  carry  these  ruined  peasants  beyond  the 
first  years  of  distress — that  money  to  be  a loan  to 
them,  without  interest,  and  to  be  repaid  as  a tax  on 
their  land.  Government  is  only  a machine  to  insure 
justice  and  help  the  people,  and  we  have  not  yet 
developed  half  its  powers.  And  we  are  under  no 
more  necessity  to  limit  ourselves  to  the  govern- 
mental precedents  of  our  ancestors  than  we  are  to 
confine  ourselves  to  the  narrow  boundaries  of  their 
knowledge,  or  their  inventive  skill,  or  their  theologi- 
cal beliefs.  The  trouble  is  that  so  many  seem  to 
regard  government  as  a divine  something  which  has 
fallen  down  upon  us  out  of  heaven,  and  therefore  not 
to  be  improved  upon  or  even  criticised;  while  the 
truth  is,  it  is  simply  a huihan  device  to  secure  human 
happiness,  and  in  itself  has  no  more  sacredness 
than  a wheelbarrow  or  a cooking-pot.  The  end  of 
everything  earthly  is  the  good  of  man ; and  there  is 
nothing  sacred  on  earth  but  man,  because  he  alone 
shares  the  Divine  conscience.” 

“‘But,”  said  he,  “would  not  your  paper  money 
have  to  be  redeemed  in  gold  or  silver?  ” 

“Not  necessarily,”  I replied.  “The  adoration  of 
gold  and  silver  is  a superstition  of  which  the  bank- 
ers are  the  high  priests  and  mankind  the  victims. 
Those  metals  are  of  themselves  of  little  value.  What 
should  make  them  so?  ” 

“Are  they  not  the  rarest  and  most  valuable  pro- 
ductions of  the  world?  ” said  Maximilian. 

“By  no  means,”  I replied;  “there  are  many 


CESAR’S  COLUMN. 


123 


metals  that  exceed  them  in  rarity  and  value.  While 
a kilogram  of  gold  is  worth  about  $730  and  one 
of  silver  about  $43.50,  the  same  weight  of  iridium 
(the  heaviest  body  known)  costs  $2,400;  one  of 
palladium,  $3,075 ; one  of  calcium  nearly  $10,000; 
one  of  stibidium,  $20,000 ; while  vanadium,  the  true 
‘king  of  metals,’  is  worth  $25,000  per  kilogram, 
as  against  $730  for  gold  or  $43.50  for  silver.  ” 

“ Why,  then,  are  they  used  as  money?  ” he  asked. 

“Who  can  tell?  The  practice  dates  back  to  pre- 
historic ages.  Man  always  accepts  as  right  any- 
thing that  is  in  existence  when  he  is  born.” 

“But  are  they  not  more  beautiful  than  other 
metals?  And  are  they  not  used  as  money  because 
acids  will  not  corrode  them?  ” 

“No,”  I replied;  “some  of  the  other  metals  exceed 
them  in  beauty.  The  diamond  far  surpasses  them  in 
both  beauty  and  value,  and  glass  resists  the  action 
of  acids  better  than  either  of  them.” 

“What  do  you  propose?  ” he  asked. 

“Gold  and  silver,”  I said,  “are  the  bases  of  the 
world’s  currency.  If  they  are  abundant,  all  forms  of 
paper  money  are  abundant.  If  they  are  scarce,  the 
paper  money  must  shrink  in  proportion  to  the 
shrinkage  of  its  foundation;  if  not,  there  come 
panics  and  convulsions,  in  the  effort  to  make  one 
dollar  of  gold  pay  three,  six  or  ten  of  paper.  For 
one  hundred  and  fifty  years  the  production  of  gold 
and  silver  has  been  steadily  shrinking,  while  the  pop- 
ulation and  business  of  the  world  have  been  rapidly 
increasing. 

“Take  a child  a few  years  old;  let  a blacksmith 
weld  around  his  waist  an  iron  band.  At  first  it 
causes  him  little  inconvenience.  He  plays.  As  he 


124 


CJESAK’S  COLUMN. 


grows  older  it  becomes  tighter ; it  causes  him  pain ; 
he  scarcely  knows  what  ails  him.  He  still  grows.  All 
his  internal  organs  are  cramped  and  displaced.  He 
grows  still  larger;  he  has  the  head,  shoulders  and 
limbs  of  a man  and  the  waist  of  a child.  He  is  a 
monstrosity.  He  dies.  This  is  a picture  of  the 
world  of  to-day,  bound  in  the  silly  superstition  of 
some  prehistoric  nation.  But  this  is  not  all.  Every 
decrease  in  the  quantity,  actual  or  relative,  of  gold 
and  silver  increases  the  purchasing  power  of  the 
dollars  made  out  of  them;  and  the  dollar  becomes 
the  equivalent  for  a larger  amount  of  the  labor  of 
man  and  his  productions.  This  makes  the  rich  man 
richer  and  the  poor  man  poorer.  The  iron  band  is 
displacing  the  organs  of  life.  As  the  dollar  rises  in 
value,  man  sinks.  Hence  the  decrease  in  wages;  the 
increase  in  the  power  of  wealth;  the  luxury  of  the 
few;  the  misery  of  the  many.” 

“How  would  you  help  it?  ” he  asked. 

“I  would  call  the  civilized  nations  together*  in 
council,  and  devise  an  international  paper  money,  to 
be  issued  by  the  different  nations,  but  to  be  receiva- 
ble as  legal  tender  for  all  debts  in  all  countries.  It 
should  hold  a fixed  ratio  to  population,  never  to  be 
exceeded ; and  it  should  be  secured  on  all  the  prop- 
erty of  the  civilized  world,  and  acceptable  in  pay- 
ment of  all  taxes,  national,  state  and  municipal, 
everywhere.  I should  declare  gold  and  silver  legal 
tenders  only  for  debts  of  five  dollars  or  less.  An 
international  greenback  that  was  good  in  New  York, 
London,  Berlin,  Melbourne,  Paris  and  Amsterdam, 
would  be  good  anywhere.  The  world,  released  from 
its  iron  band,  would  leap  forward  to  marvelous 
prosperity;  there  would  be  no  financial  panics,  for 


CyESAR'S  COLUMN. 


125 


there  could  be  no  contraction;  there  would  be  no 
more  torpid  ‘middle  ages/  dead  for  lack  of  cur- 
rency, for  the  money  of  a nation  would  expand,  pari 
passu,  side  by  side  with  the  growth  of  its  popula- 
tion. There  would  be  no  limit  to  the  development  of 
mankind,  save  the  capacities  of  the  planet;  and  even 
these,  through  the  skill  of  man,  could  be  increased  a 
thousand -fold  beyond  what  our  ancestors  dreamed 
of.  The  very  seas  and  lakes,  judiciously  farmed, 
would  support  more  people  than  the  earth  now  main- 
tains. A million  fish  ova  now  go  to  waste  where  one 
grows  to  maturity. 

“ The  time  may  come  when  the  slow  processes  of 
agriculture  will  be  largely  discarded,  and  the  food  of 
man  be  created  out  of  the  chemical  elements  of 
which  it  is  composed,  transfused  by  electricity  and 
magnetism.  We  have  already  done  something  in 
that  direction  in  the  way  of  synthetic  chemistry. 
Our  mountain  ranges  may,  in  after  ages,  be  leveled 
down  and  turned  into  bread  for  the  support  of  the 
most  enlightened,  cultured,  and,  in  its  highes’t  sense, 
religious  people  that  ever  dwelt  on  the  globe.  All 
this  is  possible  if  civilization  is  preserved  from  the 
destructive  power  of  the  ignorant  and  brutal  Plu- 
tocracy, who  now  threaten  the  safety  of  mankind. 
They  are  like  the  slave-owners  of  1860;  they 
blindly  and  imperiously  insist  on  their  own  destruc- 
tion ; they  strike  at  the  very  hands  that  would  save 
them.” 

“But,”  said  Maximilian,  “is  it  not  right  and 
necessary  that  the  intellect  of  the  world  should  rule 
the  world  ? ” 

“Certainly,”  I replied ; “but  what  is  intellect?  It 
is  breadth  of  comprehension ; and  this  implies  gentle- 


126 


CESAR’S  COLUMN. 


ness  and  love.  The  man  whose  scope  of  thought 
takes  in  the  created  world,  and  apprehends  man’s 
place  in  nature,  cannot  be  cruel  to  his  fellows.  In- 
tellect, if  it  is  selfish,  is  wisely  selfish.  It  perceives 
clearly  that  such  a shocking  abomination  as  our 
present  condition  cannot  endure.  It  knows  that  a 
few  men  cannot  safely  batten  down  the  hatches  over 
the  starving  crew  and  passengers,  and  then  riot  in 
drunken  debauchery  on  the  deck.  When  the  im- 
prisoned wretches  in  the  hold  become  desperate 
enough — and  it  is  simply  a question  of  time — they 
will  fire  the  ship  or  scuttle  it,  and  the  fools  and  their 
victims  will  all  perish  together.  True  intellect  is 
broad,  fore-sighted,  wide-ranging,  merciful,  just. 
Some  one  said  of  old  that  ‘the  gods  showed  what 
they  thought  of  riches  by  the  kind  of  people  they 
gave  them  to.’  It  is  not  the  poets,  the  philosophers, 
the  philanthropists,  the  historians,  the  sages,  the 
scholars,  the  really  intellectual  of  any  generation 
who  owm  the  great  fortunes.  No;  but  there  is  a 
subsection  of  the  brain  called  cunning;  it  has 
nothing  to  do  with  elevation  of  mind,  or  purity 
of  soul,  or  knowledge,  or  breadth  of  view ; it  is  the 
lowest,  basest  part  of  the  intellect.  It  is  the  trait 
of  foxes,  monkeys,  crows,  rats  and  other  vermin. 
It  delights  in  holes  and  subterranean  shelters;  it 
will  not  disdain  filth ; it  is  capable  of  lying,  steal- 
ing, trickery,  knavery.  Let  me  give  you  an  example : 

“ It  is  recorded  that  when  the  great  war  broke  out 
in  this  country  against  slavery,  in  1861,  there  was  a 
rich  merchant  in  this  city,  named  A.  T.  Stewart. 
Hundreds  of  thousands  of  men  saw  in  the  war  only 
tne  great  questions  of  the  Union  and  the  abolition  of 
human  bondage— the  freeing  of  four  millions  of 


CA-:SAirS  COLUMN. 


127 


human  beings,  and  the  preservation  of  the  honor  of 
the  flag ; and  they  rushed  forward  eager  for  the  fray. 
They  were  ready  to  die  that  the  Nation  and  Liberty 
might  live.  But  while  their  souls  were  thus  inflamed 
with  great  and  splendid  emotions,  and  they  forgot 
home,  family,  wealth,  life,  everything,  Stewart,  the 
rich  merchant,  saw  simply  the  fact  that  the  war 
would  cut  off  communication  between  the  North  and 
the  cotton-producing  States,  and  that  this  would  re- 
sult in  a rise  in  the  price  of  cotton  goods;  and  so, 
amid  the  wild  agitations  of  patriotism,  the  beating 
of  drums  and  the  blaring  of  trumpets,  he  sent  out  his 
agents  and  bought  up  all  the  cotton  goods  he  could 
lay  his  hands  on.  He  made  a million  dollars,  it  is 
said,  by  this  little  piece  of  cunning.  But  if  all  men 
had  thought  and  acted  as  Stewart  did,  we  should 
have  had  no  Union,  no  country,  and  there  would 
be  left  to-day  neither  honor  nor  manhood  in  all  the 
world.  The  nation  was  saved  by  those  poor  fellows 
who  did  not  consider  the  price  of  cotton  goods  in  the 
hour  of  America’s  crucial  agony.  Their  dust  now 
billows  the  earth  of  a hundred  battle-flelds ; but  their 
memory  will  be  kept  sweet  in  the  hearts  of  men 
forever ! On  the  other  hand,  the  fortune  of  the  great 
merchant,  as  it  did  no  good  during  his  life,  so,  after 
his  death,  it  descended  upon  an  alien  to  his  blood ; 
while  even  his  wretched  carcass  was  denied,  by  the 
irony  of  fate,  rest  under  his  splendid  mausoleum,  and 
may  have  found  its  flnal  sepulchre  in  the  stomachs  of 
dogs ! 

“This  little  incident  illustrates  the  whole  matter. 
It  is  not  Intellect  that  rules  the  world  of  wealth,  it  is 
Cunning.  Muscle  once  dominated  mankind  — the 
muscle  of  the  baron’s  right  arm;  and  Intellect  had 


128 


CESAR'S  COLUMN. 


to  fly  to  the  priesthood,  the  monastery,  the  friar’s 
gown,  for  safety.  Now  Muscle  is  the  world’s  slave, 
and  Cunning  \s  the  baron — the  world’s  master. 

‘•Let  me  give  you  another  illustration:  Ten 
thousand  men  are  working  at  a trade.  One  of  them 
conceives  the  scheme  of  an  invention,  whereby  their 
productive  power  is  increased  tenfold.  Each  of 
them,  we  will  say,  had  been  producing,  by  his  toil, 
property  worth  four  dollars  and  a half  per  day,  and 
his  wages  were,  we  will  say,  one  dollar  and  a half  per 
day.  Now,  he  is  able  with  the  new  invention  to  pro- 
duce property  worth  forty-five  dollars  per  day.  Are 
his  wages  increased  in  due  proportion,  to  fifteen 
dollars  per  day,  or  even  to  five  dollars  per  day?  Not 
at  all.  Cunning  has  stepped  in  and  examined  the 
poor  workman’s  invention;  it  has  bought  it  from 
him  for  a pittance;  it  secures  a patent — a monop- 
oly under  the  shelter  of  unwise  laws.  The  workmen 
still  get  their  |1.50  per  day,  and  Cunning  pockets 
the  remainder.  But  this  is  not  all : If  one  man  can 
now  do  the  work  of  ten,  then  there  ai’e  nine  men 
thrown  out  of  employment.  But  the  nine  men  must 
live ; they  want  the  one  man’s  place ; they  are  hungry ; 
they  will  work  for  less;  and  down  go  wages,  until 
they  reach  the  lowest  limit  at  which  the  workmen 
can  possibly  live.  Society  has  produced  one  million- 
aire and  thousands  of  paupers.  The  millionaire 
cannot  eat  any  more  or  wear  any  more  than  one 
prosperous  yeoman,  and  therefore  is  of  no  more 
value  to  trade  and  commerce;  but  the  thousands  of 
paupers  have  to  be  supported  by  the  tax-payers, 
and  they  have  no  money  to  spend,  and  they  cannot 
buy  the  goods  of  the  merchants,  or  the  manufact- 
urers, and  all  busine'ss  languishes.  In  short,  the 


CJiSAIVS  COLUMN. 


12!) 


most  utterly  useless,  destructive  and  damnable  crop 
a country  cau  grow  is — millionaires.  If  a commu- 
nity were  to  send  to  India  and  import  a lot  of  man- 
eating  tigers,  and  turn  them  loose  on  the  streets,  to 
prey  on  men,  women  and  children,  they  would  not 
inflict  a tithe  of  the  misery  that  is  caused  by  a like 
number  of  millionaires.  And  there  would  be  this 
further  disadvantage:  the  inhabitants  of  the  city 
could  turn  out  and  kill  the  tigers,  but  the  human 
destroyers  are  protected  by  the  benevolent  laws  of 
the  very  people  they  are  immolating  on  the  altars  of 
wretchedness  and  vice.” 

“ But  what  is  your  remedy?  ” asked  Max. 

“Government,”!  replied;  “government — nation- 
al, state  and  municipal — is  the  key  to  the  future  of 
the  human  race. 

“There  was  a time  when  the  town  simply  repre- 
sented cowering  peasants,  clustered  under  the  shadow 
of  the  baron’s  castle  for  protection.  It  advanced 
slowly  and  reluctantly  along  the  road  of  civic 
development,  scourged  forward  by  the  whip  of  neces- 
sity. We  have  but  to  expand  the  powers  of  govern- 
ment to  solve  the  enigma  of  the  world.  Man  sepa- 
rated is  man  savage ; man  gregarious  is  man  civil- 
ized. A higher  development  in  society  requires  that 
this  instrumentality  of  co-operation  shall  be  height- 
ened in  its  powers.  There  was  a time  when  every 
man  provided,  at  great  cost,  for  the  carriage  of  his 
own  letters.  Now  the  government,  for  an  infinitely 
small  charge,  takes  the  business  off  his  hands. 
There  was  a time  when  each  house  had  to  provide 
itself  with  water.  Now  the  municipality  furnishes 
water  to  all.  The  same  is  true  of  light.  At  one  time 
each  family  had  to  educate  its  own  children;  now 
9 


130 


CjESAR’S  column. 


the  state  educates  them.  Once  every  man  went 
armed  to  protect  himself.  Now  the  city  protects  him 
by  its  armed  police.  These  hints  must  be  followed 
out.  The  city  of  the  future  must  furnish  doctors  for 
all;  lawyers  for  all;  entertainments  for  all;  business 
guidance  for  all.  It  will  see  to  it  that  no  man  is 
plundered,  and  no  man  starved,  who  is  wdlling  to 
work.” 

“But,”  said  Max,  “if  you  do  away  with  interest 
on  money  and  thus  scatter  coagulated  capital  into 
innumerable  small  enterprises,  how  are  you  going  to 
get  along  without  the  keen-brained  masters  of  busi- 
ness, who  labor  gigantically  for  gigantic  personal 
profits;  but  who,  by  their  toil  and  their  capital,  bring 
the  great  body  of  producers  into  relation  with  the 
great  body  of  consumers  ? Are  these  men  not  neces- 
sary to  society?  Do  they  not  create  occasion  and 
opportunity  for  labor?  Are  not  their  active  and 
pow'erful  brains  at  the  back  of  all  progress  ? There 
may  be  a thousand  men  idling,  and  poorly  fed  and 
clothed, in  a neighborhood:  along  comes  one  of  these 
shrewd  adventurers ; he  sees  an  opportunity  to  utilize 
the  bark  of  the  trees  and  the  ox-hides  of  the  farmers’ 
cattle,  and  he  starts  a tannery.  He  may  accumulate 
more  money  than  the  thousand  men  he  sets  to  work ; 
but  has  he  not  done  more?  Is  not  his  intellect  im- 
measurably more  valuable  than  all  those  unthinking 
muscles?” 

“ There  is  much  force  in  your  argument,”!  replied, 
“ and  I do  not  think  that  society  should  discourage 
such  adventurers.  But  the  muscles  of  the  many  are 
as  necessary  to  the  man  you  describe  as  his  intellect 
is  to  the  muscles ; and  as  they  are  all  men  together 
there  should  be  some  equity  in  the  distribution  of  the 


CESAR’S  COLUMN. 


131 


profits.  And  remember,  we  have  gotten  into  a way  of 
thinking  as  if  numbers  and  wealth  were  everything. 
It  is  better  for  a nation  to  contain  thirty  million 
people,  prosperous,  happy  and  patriotic,  than  one 
hundred  millions,  ignorant,  wretched  and  longing 
for  an  opportunity  to  overthrow  all  government. 
The  over-population  of  the  globe  will  come  soon 
enough.  We  have  no  interest  in  hurrying  it.  The 
silly  ancestors  of  the  Americans  called  it  ‘national 
development  ’ when  they  imported  millions  of  for- 
eigners to  take  up  the  public  lands,  and  left  nothing 
for  their  own  children. 

“And  here  is  another  point:  Men  work  at  first  for 
a competence  —for  enough  to  lift  them  above  the 
reach  of  want  in  those  days  which  they  know  to  be 
rapidly  approaching,  when  they  can  no  longer  toil. 
But,  having  reached  that  point,  they  go  on  laboring 
for  vanity — one  of  the  shallowest  of  the  human  pas- 
sions. The  man  who  is  worth  $100,000  says  to 
himself,  ‘There  is  Jones;  he  is  worth  $500,000;  he 
lives  with  a display  and  extravagance  I cannot  equal. 
I must  increase  my  fortune  to  half  a million.’  Jones, 
on  the  other  hand,  is  measuring  himself  against 
Brown,  who  has  a million.  He  knows  that  men  cringe 
lower  to  Brown  than  they  do  to  him.  He  must  have 
a million — half  a million  is  nothing.  And  Brown  feels 
that  he  is  overshadowed  by  Smith,  with  his  ten  mill- 
ions ; and  so  the  childish  emulation  continues.  Men 
are  valued,  not  for  themselves,  but  for  their  bank 
account.  In  the  meantime  these  vast  concentrations 
of  capital  are  made  at  the  expense  of  mankind.  If,  in 
a community  of  a thousand  persons,  there  are  one 
hundred  millions  of  wealth,  and  it  is  equally  divided 
between  them,  all  are  comfortable  and  happy.  If, 


132 


CESAR’S  COLUMN. 


now,  ten  men,  by  cunning  devices,  grasp  three-fourths 
of  all  this  wealth,  and  put  it  in  their  pockets,  there  is 
but  one-fourth  left  to  divide  among  the  nine  hundred 
and  ninety,  and  they  are  therefore  poor  and  miser- 
able. Within  certain  limits  , accumulation  in  one 
place  represents  denudation  elsewhere. 

“And  thus,  under  the  stimulus  of  shallow  vanity,” 
I continued,  “a  rivalry  of  barouches  and  bonnets  — 
an  emulation  of  waste  and  extravagance — all  the 
powers  of  the  minds  of  men  are  turned — not  to  lift 
up  the  world,  but  .to  degrade  it.  A crowd  of  little 
creatures  — men  and  women  — are  displayed  upon 
a high  platform,  in  the  face  of  mankind,  parading 
and  strutting  about,  with  their  noses  in  the  air,  as 
tickled  as  a monkey  with  a string  of  beads,  and 
covered  with  a glory  which  is  not  their  own,  but 
which  they  have  been  able  to  purchase;  crying  aloud : 
‘Behold  what  I have  got!’  not,  ‘Behold  what  I 
am  I’ 

“And  then  the  inexpressible  servility  of  those  be- 
low them ! The  fools  would  not  recognize  Socrates  if 
they  fell  over  him  in  the  street ; but  they  can  perceive 
Croesus  a mile  off;  they  can  smell  him  a block  away; 
and  they  will  dislocate  their  vertebrae  abasing  them- 
selves before  him.  It  reminds  one  of  the  time  of 
Louis  XIV.  in  France,  when  millions  of  people  were 
in  the  extremest  misery — even  unto  starvation; 
while  great  grandees  thought  it  the  acme  of  earthly 
bliss  and  honor  to  help  put  the  king  to  bed,  or  take 
off  his  dirty  socks.  And  if  a common  man,  by  any 
chance,  caught  a glimpse  of  royalty  changing  its 
shirt,  he  felt  as  if  he  had  looked  into  heaven  and  be- 
held Divinity  creating  worlds.  Oh,  it  is  enough  to 
make  a man  loathe  his  species.” 


CJiSAlVS  COLUMN. 


133 


“Come,  come,” said  Maximilian, “you  grow  bitter. 
Let  us  go  to  dinner  before  you  abolish  all  the  evils  of 
the  world,  or  I shall  be  disposed  to  quit  New  York 
and  buy  a corner  lot  in  Utopia.” 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

THE  COUNCIL  OF  THE  OLIGARCHY. 

Precisely  as  Rudolph  had  forecast,  things  came  to 
pass.  I arrived  at  the  palace  of  the  Prince  at  half 
past  six;  at  half  past  seven,  my  ordinary  suit  was 
covered  with  a braided  livery,  and  I accompanied 
Rudolph  to  the  council-chamber.  We  placed  the 
table,  chairs,  pens,  ink,  paper,  etc.,  in  order.  Watch- 
ing our  opportunity,  we  drew  aside  a heavy  box  in 
which  grew  a noble  specimen  of  the  cactus  grandi- 
forus  in  full  bloom,  the  gorgeous  flowers  just  opening 
with  the  sunset,  and  Ailing  the  chamber  with  their  de- 
licious perfume.  I crawled  through  the  opening ; took 
off  my  liveried  suit;  handed  it  back  to  Rudolph;  he 
pushed  the  box  into  its  place  again ; I inserted  the 
hooks  in  their  staples,  and  the  barricade  was  com- 
plete. With  many  whispered  injunctions  and  direc- 
tions  he  left  me.  I heard  him  go  out  and  lock  the 
door — not  the  door  by  which  we  had  entered — and 
all  was  silence. 

There  was  room,  by  doubling  up  my  limbs, 
Turk-fashion,  to  sit  down  in  the  inclosure.  I waited. 
I thought  of  Estella.  Rudolph  had  assured  me  that 
she  had  not  been  disturbed.  They  were  waiting  for 
hunger  to  compel  her  to  eat  the  drugged  food.  Then 
I wondered  whether  we  would  escape  in  safety.  Then 
my  thoughts  dwelt  on  the  words  she  had  spoken  of 
me,  and  I remembered  the  pleased  look  upon  her  face 

when  we  met  in  Rudolph’s  room,  and  my  visions  be- 

134 


CESAR’S  COLUMN. 


135 


came  very  pleasant.  Even  the  dead  silence  and 
oppressive  solitude  of  the  two  great  rooms  could  not 
still  the  rapid  beatings  of  my  heart.  I forgot  my 
mission  and  thought  only  of  Estella  and  the  future. 

I was  recalled  to  earth  and  its  duties  by  the  un- 
locking of  the  farther  door.  I heard  Kudolph  say, 
as  if  in  answer  to  a question : 

“Yes,  my  lord,  I have  personally  examined  the 
rooms  and  made  sure  that  there  are  no  spies  con- 
cealed anywhere.” 

“Let  me  see,”  said  the  Prince;  “lift  up  the 
tapestry.” 

I could  hear  them  moving  about  the  council- 
chamber,  apparently  going  around  the  walls.  Then 
I heard  them  advancing  into  the  conservatory. 
I shrank  down  still  lower;  they  moved  here  and 
there  among  the  flowers,  and  even  paused  for  a few 
moments  before  the  mass  of  flowering  cacti. 

“That  Hagelliformis,”  said  the  Prince,  “looks 
sickly.  The  soil  is  perhaps  too  rich.  Tell  the  gar- 
dener to  change  the  earth  about  it.” 

“I  shall  do  so,  my  lord,”  said  Rudolph;  and  to 
my  great  relief  they  moved  ofl".  In  a few  minutes 
I heard  them  in  the  council-chamber.  With  great 
caution  I rose  slowly.  A screen  of  flowers  had  been 
cunningly  placed  by  Rudolph  between  the  cacti  and 
that  apartment.  At  last,  half-stooping,  I found  an 
aperture  in  the  rich  mass  of  blossoms.  The  Prince 
was  talking  to  'Rudolph.  I had  a good  view  of  his 
person.  He  was  dressed  in  an  evening  suit.  He  was 
a large  man,  somewhat  corpulent ; or,  as  Rudolph 
had  said,  bloated.  He  had  a Hebraic  cast  of  coun- 
tenance ; his  face  seemed  to  be  all  angles.  The  brow 
was  square  and  prominent,  projecting  at  the  corners ; 


136 


CESAR'S  COLUMN. 


the  nose  was  quite  high  and  aquiline;  the  hair  had 
the  look  of  being  dyed ; a long,  thick  black  mustache 
covered  his  upper  lip,  but  it  could  not  quite  conceal 
the  hard,  cynical  and  sneering  expression  of  his 
mouth ; great  bags  of  flesh  hung  beneath  the  small, 
furtive  eyes.  Altogether  the  face  reminded  me  of 
the  portraits  of  Napoleon  the  Third,  who  was 
thought  by  many  to  have  had  little  of  Napoleon  in 
him  except  the  name. 

There  was  about  Prince  Cabano  that  air  of  confi- 
dence and  command  which  usually  accompanies 
great  wealth  or  success  of  any  kind.  Extraordinary 
power  produces  always  the  same  type  of  counte- 
nance. You  see  it  in  the  high-nosed  mummied  kings 
of  ancient  Egypt.  There  is  about  them  an  aristo- 
cratic hauteur  which  even  the  shrinking  of  the  dry 
skin  for  four  thousand  years  has  not  been  able  to 
quite  subdue.  We  feel  like  taking  off  our  hats  even 
to  their  parched  hides.  You  see  it  in  the  cross-legged 
monuments  of  the  old  crusaders,  in  the  venerable 
churches  of  Europe;  a splendid  breed  of  ferocious 
barbarians  they  were,  who  struck  ten  blows  for  con- 
quest and  plunder  where  they  struck  one  for  Christ. 
And  you  can  see  the  same  type  of  countenance  in  the 
present  rulers  of  the  world — the  great  bankers,  the 
railroad  presidents,  the  gigantic  speculators,  the 
uncrowned  monarchs  of  commerce,  whose  golden 
chariots  drive  recklessly  over  the  prostrate  bodies  of 
the  people. 

And  then  there  is  another  class  who  are  every- 
where the  aids  and  ministers  of  these  oppressors. 
You  can  tell  them  at  a glance — large,  coarse,  corpu- 
lent men ; red-faced,  brutal ; decorated  with  vulgar 
taste;  loud-voiced,  selfish,  self-assertive;  cringing 


C.'ESAR'S  COLUMN. 


137 


sycophants  to  all  above  them,  slave-drivers  of  all 
below  them.  They  are  determined  to  live  on  the  best 
the  world  can  afford,  and  they  care  nothing  if  the 
miserable  perish  in  clusters  around  their  feet.  The 
howls  of  starvation  will  not  lessen  one  iota  their  ap- 
petite or  their  self-satisfaction.  These  constitute  the 
great  man’s  world.  He  mistakes  their  cringings, 
posturings  and  compliments  for  the  approval  of 
mankind.  He  does  not  perceive  how  shallow  and 
temporary  and  worse  than  useless  is  the  life  he  leads ; 
and  he  cannot  see,  beyond  these  well-fed,  corpulent 
scamps,  the  great  hungry,  unhappy  millions  who  are 
suffering  from  his  misdeeds  or  his  indifference. 

While  I was  indulging  in  these  reflections  the  mem- 
bers of  the  government  were  arriving.  They  were 
accompanied  by  servants,  black  and  white,  who, 
with  many  bows  and  flexures,  relieved  them  of  their 
wraps  and  withdrew.  The  door  was  closed  and 
locked.  Rudolph  stood  without  on  guard. 

I could  now  rise  to  my  feet  with  safety,  for  the 
council-chamber  was  in  a blaze  of  electric  light,  while 
the  conservatory  was  but  partially  illuminated. 

The  men  were  mostly  middle-aged,  or  advanced  in 
years.  They  were  generally  large  men,  with  finely 
developed  brows — natural  selection  had  brought  the 
great  heads  to  the  top  of  affairs.  Some  were  clean- 
cut  in  feature,  looking  merely  like  successful  busi- 
ness men;  others,  like  the  Prince,  showed  signs  of 
sensuality  and  dissipation,  in  the  baggy,  haggard 
features.  They  were  unquestionably  an  able  as- 
sembly. There  were  no  orators  among  them ; they 
possessed  none  of  the  arts  of  the  rostrum  or  the 
platform.  They  spoke  sitting,  in  an  awkward,  hesi- 
tating manner ; but  what  they  said  was  shrewd  and 


138 


CJESAIVS  COLUMN. 


always  to  the  point.  They  had  no  secretaries  or  re- 
porters. They  could  trust  no  one  with  their  se- 
crets. Their  conclusions  were  conveyed  by  the  presi- 
dent— Prince  Cabano — to  one  man,  who  at  once 
communicated  what  was  needful  to  their  greater 
agents,  and  these  in  turn  to  the  lesser  agents ; and 
so  the  streams  of  authority  flowed,  with  lightning- 
like  speed,  to  the  remotest  parts  of  the  so-called  Re- 
public; and  many  a man  was  struck  down,  ruined, 
crushed,  destroyed,  who  had  little  suspicion  that  the 
soundless  bolt  which  slew  him  came  from  that  far- 
away chamber. 

The  Prince  welcomed  each  newcomer  pleasantly, 
and  assigned  him  to  his  place.  When  all  were  seated 
he  spoke : 

“I  have  called  you  together,  gentlemen,”  he  said, 
“because  we  have  very  important  business  to  trans- 
act. The  evidences  multiply  that  we  are  probably  on 
the  eve  of  another  outbreak  of  the  restless  canaille; 
it  may  be  upon  a larger  scale  than  any  we  have  yet 
encountered.  The  filthy  wretches  seem  to  grow  more 
desperate  every  year ; otherwise  they  would  not  rush 
upon  certain  death,  as  they  seem  disposed  to  do. 

“I  have  two  men  in  this  house  whom  I thought  it 
better  that  you  should  see  and  hear  face  to  face.  The 
first  is  General  Jacob  Quincy,  commander  of  the 
forces  which  man  our  ten  thousand  air-ships,  or 
Demons,  as  they  are  popularly  called.  I think  it  is 
understood  by  all  of  us  that,  in  these  men,  and  the 
deadly  bombs  of  poisonous  gas  with  which  their  ves- 
sels are  equipped,  we  must  And  our  chief  dependence 
for  safety  and  continued  power.  We  must  not  forget 
that  we  are  outnumbered  a thousand  to  one,  and  the 
world  grows  very  restive  under  our  domination.  If 


CESAR’S  COLUMN. 


139 


it  were  not  for  the  Demons  and  the  poison-bombs,  I 
should  fear  the  results  of  the  coming  contest  — with 
these,  victory  is  certain. 

“Quincy,  on  behalf  of  his  men,  demands  another 
increase  of  pay.  We  have  already  several  times 
yielded  to  similar  applications.  We  are  somewhat  in 
the  condition  of  ancient  Eome,  when  the  praetorians 
murdered  the  emperor  Pertinax,  and  sold  the  impe- 
rial crown  to  Didius  Julianas.  These  men  hold  the 
control  of  the  continent  in  their  hands.  Fortunately 
for  us,  they  are  not  yet  fully  aware  of  their  own 
power,  and  are  content  to  merely  demand  an  increase 
of  pay.  We  cannot  quarrel  with  them  at  this  time, 
with  a great  insurrection  pending.  A refusal  might 
drive  them  over  to  the  enemy.  I mention  these  facts 
so  that,  whatever  demands  General  Quincy  may 
make,  however  extravagant  they  may  be,  you  will 
express  no  dissatisfaction.  When  he  is  gone  we  can 
talk  over  our  plans  for  the  future,  and  decide  what 
course  we  will  take  as  to  these  troublesome  men 
when  the  outbreak  is  over.  I shall  have  something 
to  propose  after  he  leaves  us.” 

There  was  a general  expression  of  approval  around 
the  table. 

“ There  is  another  party  here  to-night,”  continued 
the  Prince.  “ He  is  a very  shrewd  and  cunning  spy ; a 
member  of  our  secret  police  service.  He  goes  by  the 
name  of  Stephen  Andrews  in  his  intercourse  with  me. 
What  his  real  name  may  be  I know  not. 

“You  are  aware  we  have  had  great  trouble  to 
ascertain  anything  definitely  about  this  new  organiza- 
tion, and  have  succeeded  but  indifferently.  Their 
plans  seem  to  be  so  well  taken,  and  their  cunning  so 
great,  that  all  our  attempts  have  come  to  naught. 


140 


CAHSAR’S  COLUMN. 


Many  of  our  spies  have  disappeared ; the  police  can- 
not learn  what  becomes  of  them ; they  are  certainly 
dead,  but  none  of  their  bodies  are  ever  found.  It  is 
supposed  that  they  have  been  murdei’ed,  loaded  with 
weights  and  sunk  in  the  river.  This  man  Andrews 
has  so  far  escaped.  He  works  as  a mechanic — in  fact, 
he  really  is  such — in  one  of  the  shops;  and  he  is 
apparently  the  most  violent  and  bitter  of  our 
enemies.  He  will  hold  intercourse  with  no  one  but 
me,  for  he  suspects  all  the  city  police,  and  he  comes 
here  but  seldom — not  more  than  once  in  two  or  three 
months — when  I pay  him  liberally  and  assign  him 
to  new  work.  The  last  task  I gave  him  was  to  dis- 
cover who  are  the  leaders  of  the  miserable  creatures 
in  this  new  conspiracy.  He  has  found  it  very  difficult 
to  obtain  any  positive  information  upon  this  point. 
The  organization  is  very  cunningly  contrived.  The 
Brotherhood  is  made  up  in  groups  of  ten.  No  one  of 
the  rank  and  file  knows  more  than  nine  other 
members  associated  with  him.  The  leaders  of  these 
groups  of  ten  are  selected  by  a higher  power.  These 
leaders  are  again  organized  in  groups  of  ten,  under 
a leader  again  selected  by  a higher  power ; but  in  this 
second  group  of  ten  no  man  knows  his  fellow’s  name 
or  face ; they  meet  always  masked.  And  so  the  scale 
rises.  The  highest  body  of  all  is  a group  of  one  hun- 
dred, selected  out  of  the  whole  force  by  an  executive 
committee.  Andrews  has  at  length,  after  years  of 
patient  waiting  and  working,  been  selected  as  one  of 
this  upper  hundred.  He  is  to  be  initiated  to-morrow 
night.  He  came  to  me  for  more  money ; for  he  feels 
he  is  placing  himself  in  great  danger  in  going  into  the 
den  of  the  chief  conspirators.  I told  him  that  I 
thought  you  would  like  to  question  him,  and  so  he 


CESAR’S  COLUMN. 


141 


has  returned  again  to-night,  disguised  in  the  dress  of 
a woman,  and  he  is  now  in  the  library  awaiting  your 
pleasure.  I think  we  had  better  see  him  before  we 
hear  what  Quincy  has  to  say.  Shall  I send  for 
him?” 

General  assent  being  given,  he  stepped  to  the  door 
and  told  Eudolph  to  bring  up  the  woman  he  would 
find  in  the  library.  In  a few  moments  the  door 
opened  and  a tall  personage,  dressed  like  a woman, 
with  a heavy  veil  over  her  face,  entered.  The  Prince 
said: 

“ Lock  the  door  and  come  forward.” 

The  figure  did  so,  advanced  to  the  table  and  re- 
moved the  bonnet  and  veil,  disclosing  the  dark, 
bronzed  face  of  a workman — a keen,  shrewd,  observ- 
ant, watchful,  strong  face. 


CHAPTER  XIT. 

THE  spy’s  STOEY. 

“Andrews,”  said  the  Prince,  “tell  these  gentlemen 
what  you  have  found  out  about  the  extent  of  this 
organization  and  the  personality  of  its  leaders?  ” 

“My  lord,”  replied  the  man,  “I  can  speak  only  by 
hearsay — from  whispers  which  I have  heard  in  a 
thousand  places,  and  by  piecing  together  scraps  of 
information  which  I have  gathered  in  a great  many 
ways.  I do  not  yet  speak  positively.  Aftet  to-mor- 
row night  I hope  to  be  able  to  tell  you  everything.” 

“I  understand  the  difficulties  you  have  to  contend 
with,”  replied  the  Prince;  “and  these  gentlemen  will 
not  hold  you  to  a strict  accountability  for  the  cor- 
rectness of  what  you  have  gathered  in  that  way.” 

“You  can  have  no  idea,”  said  Andrews,  “of  the 
difficulty  of  obtaining  information.  It  is  a terrible 
organization.  I do  not  think  that  anything  like  it 
has  ever  existed  before  on  the  earth.  One  year  ago 
there  were  fifteen  of  us  engaged  in  this  work ; I am  the 
only  one  left  alive  to-night.” 

His  face  grew  paler  as  he  spoke,  and  there  was  a 
visible  start  and  sensation  about  the  council  board. 

“This  organization,”  he  continued,  “is  called  ‘The 
Brotherhood  of  Destruction.’  It  extends  all  over 
Europe  and  America,  and  numbers,  I am  told,  one 
hundred  million  members.” 

“Can  that  be  possible?”  asked  one  gentleman,  in 
astonishment. 


142 


CJESAR'S  COLUMN. 


143 


“I  believe  it  to  be  true,”  said  Andrews,  soleiunly. 
“Nearly  every  workman  of  good  character  and  sober 
habits  in  New  York  belongs  to  it ; and  so  it  is  in  all 
our  great  cities;  while  the  blacks  of  the  South  are 
members  of  it  to  a man.  Their  former  masters  have 
kept  them  in  a state  of  savagery,  instead  of  civil- 
izing and  elevating  them;  and  the  result  is  they 
are  as  barbarous  and  bloodthirsty  as  their  ances- 
tors were  when  brought  from  Africa,  and  fit  subjects 
for  such  a terrible  organization.” 

“What  has  caused  such  a vast  movement?” 
asked  another  gentleman. 

“The  universal  misery  and  wretchedness  of  the 
working  classes,  in  the  cities,  on  the  farms — every- 
where,” replied  Andrews. 

“Are  they  armed?”  asked  another  of  the  Council. 

“It  is  claimed,”  said  Andrews,  “that  every  one  of 
the  hundred  millions  possesses  a magazine  rifle  of 
the  most  improved  pattern,  with  abundance  of  fixed 
ammunition.” 

“I  fear,  my  good  man,”  said  another  member  of 
the  Council,  with  a sneer,  “ that  you  have  been  fright- 
ened by  some  old  woman’s  tales.  Where  could  these 
men  buy  such  weapons  ? What  would  they  buy  them 
with?  Where  would  they  hide  them?  Our  armories 
and  manufacturers  are  forbidden  by  law  to  sell  fire- 
arms, unless  under  special  permit,  signed  by  one  of 
our  trusty  officers.  The  value  of  those  guns  would 
in  itself  be  a vast  sum,  far  beyond  the  means  of  those 
miserable  wretches.  And  our  police  are  constantly 
scouring  the  cities  and  the  country  for  weapons,  and 
they  report  that  the  people  possess  none,  except  a 
few  old-fashioned,  worthless  fowling-pieces,  that  have 
come  down  from  father  to  son.” 


144 


C^SAWS  COLUMN. 


“As  I said  before,”  replied  Andrews,  “I  tell  you 
only  what  I have  gleaned  among  the  workmen  in 
those  secret  whispers  which  pass  from  one  man’s 
mouth  to  another  man’s  ear.  I may  be  misin- 
formed ; but  I am  told  that  these  rifles  are  manufact- 
ured by  the  men  themselves  (for,  of  course,  all  the 
skilled  work  of  all  kinds  is  done  by  workingmen)  in 
some  remote  and  desolate  parts  of  Europe  or  Amer- 
ica ; they  are  furnished  at  a very  low  price,  at  actual 
cost,  and  paid  for  in  small  installments,  during  many 
years.  They  are  delivered  to  the  captains  of  tens 
and  by  them  buried  in  rubber  bags  in  the  earth.” 

“Then  that  accounts,”  said  one  man,  who  had 
not  yet  spoken,  “for  a curious  incident  which  oc- 
curred the  other  day  near  the  town  of  Zhitomir,  in 
the  province  of  Volhynia,  Russia,  not  very  far  from 
the  borders  of  Austria.  A peasant  made  an  offer  to 
the  police  to  deliver  up,  for  200  rubles,  and  a prom- 
ise of  pardon  for  himself,  nine  of  his  fellow  conspira- 
tors and  their  rifles.  His  terms  were  accepted  and  he 
was  paid  the  money.  He  led  the  officers  to  a place 
in  his  barnyard,  where,  under  a manure-heap,  they 
dug  up  ten  Splendid  rifles  of  American  make,  with 
fixed  ammunition,  of  the  most  improved  kind, 
the  whole  inclosed  in  a rubber  bag  to  keep  out  the 
damp.  Nine  other  peasants  were  arrested ; they  were 
all  subjected  to  the  knout;  but  neither  they  nor 
their  captain  could  tell  anything  more  than  he  had 
at  first  revealed.  The  Russian  newspapers  have 
been  full  of  speculations  as  to  how  the  rifles  came 
there,  but  could  arrive  at  no  reasonable  explana- 
tion.” 

“What  became  of  the  men?”  asked  Andrews, 
curiously. 


CESAR’S  COLUMN. 


145 


“Nine  of  them  were  sent  to  Siberia  for  life;  the 
tenth  man,  who  had  revealed  the  hiding-place  of  the 
guns,  was  murdered  that  night  with  his  wife  and  all 
his  family,  and  his  house  burned  up.  Even  two  of 
his  brothers,  who  lived  near  him,  but  had  taken  no 
part  in  the  matter,  were  also  slain.” 

“I  expected  as  much,”  said  Andrews  quietly. 

This  unlooked-for  corroboration  of  the  spy’s 
story  produced  a marked  sensation,  and  there  was 
profound  silence  for  some  minutes. 

At  last  the  Prince  spoke  up ; 

“Andrews,”  said  he,  “what  did"  you  learn  about 
the  leaders  of  this  organization?  ” 

“There  are  three  of  them,  I am  told,”  replied  the 
spy;  “they  constitute  what  is  known  as  ‘the  Execu- 
tii^e  Committee.’  The  commander-in-chief,  it  is  Avhis- 
pered,  is  called,  or  was  called — for  no  one  can  tell 
what  his  name  is  now — Csesar  Lomellini;  a man  of 
Italian  descent,  but  a native  of  South  Carolina.  He 
is,  it  is  said,  of  immense  size,  considerable  ability, 
and  the  most  undaunted  courage.  His  history  is 
singular.  He  is  now  about  forty-five  years  of  age. 
In  his  youth,  so  the  story  goes,  he  migrated  to  the 
then  newly  settled  State  of  Jefferson,  on  the  uppei 
waters  of  the  Saskatchewan.  He  had  married  early, 
like  all  his  race,  and  had  a family.  He  settled  down 
on  land  and  went  to  farming.  He  was  a quiet, 
peaceable,  industrious  man.  One  year,  just  as  he 
was  about  to  harvest  his  crops,  a discharge  of  light- 
ning killed  his  horses;  they  were  the  only  ones  he 
had.  He  was  without  the  means  to  purchase 
another  team,  and  without  horses  he  could  not 
gather  his  harvest.  He  was  therefore  forced  to 
mortgage  his  land  for  enough  to  buy  another  pair  of 
10 


146 


CESAR’S  COLUMN. 


horses.  The  money-lender  demanded  large  interest 
on  the  loan  and  an  exorbitant  bonus  besides ; and  as 
the  ‘bankers,’  as  they  called  themselves,  had  an  or- 
ganization, he  could  not  get  the  money  at  a lower 
rate  anywhere  in  that  vicinity.  It  was  the  old  story. 
The  crops  failed  sometimes,  and  when  they  did  not 
fail  the  combinations  and  trusts  of  one  sort  or 
another  swept  away  Caesar’s  profits ; then  he  had  to 
renew  the  loan,  again  and  again,  at  higher  rates  of 
interest,  and  with  still  greater  bonuses;  then  the 
farm  came  to  be  regarded  as  not  sufficient  security 
for  the  debt;  and  the  horses,  cattle,  machinery, 
everything  he  had  was  covered  with  mortgages. 
Caesar  worked  like  a slave,  and  his  family  toiled 
along  with  him.  At  last  the  crash  came;  he  was 
driven  out  of  his  home ; the  farm  and  all  had  been 
lost  for  the  price  of  a pair  of  horses.  Right  on  the 
heels  of  this  calamity,  Caesar  learned  that  his  eldest 
daughter — a beautiful,  dark-eyed  girl — had  been  se- 
duced by  a lawyer — the  agent  of  the  money-lender — 
and  would  in  a few  months  become  a mother.  Then 
all  the  devil  that  lay  hid  in  the  depths  of  the  man’s 
nature  broke  forth.  That  night  the  lawyer  was  at- 
tacked in  his  bed  and  literally  hewed  to  pieces : the 
same  fate  overtook  the  money-lender.  Before  morn- 
ing Caesar  and  his  family  had  fled  to  the  inhospitable 
mountain  regions  north  of  the  settlement.  There  he 
gathered  around  him  a band  of  men  as  desperate  as 
himself,  and  waged  bloody  and  incessant  war  on  so- 
ciety. He  seemed,  however,  to  have  a method  in  his 
crimes,  for,  while  he  spared  the  poor,  no  man  who 
preyed  upon  his  fellow-men  was  safe  for  an  hour.  At 
length  the  government  massed  a number  of  troops 
in  the  vicinity ; the  place  got  too  hot  for  him ; Caesar 


CjESAR^S  column. 


147 


and  his  men  fled  to  the  Paciflc  coast;  and  nothing 
more  was  heard  of  him  for  three  or  four  years.  Then 
the  terrible  negro  insurrection  broke  out  in  the  lower 
Mississippi  Valley,  which  you  all  remember,  and  a 
white  man,  of  gigantic  stature,  appeared  as  their 
leader,  a man  of  great  daring  and  enterprise.  When 
that  rebellion  had  been  suppressed,  after  many 
battles,  the  white  man  disappeared;  and  it  is  now 
claimed  that  he  is  in  this  city  at  the  head  of  this  ter- 
rible Brotherhood  of  Destruction ; and  that  he  is  the 
same  Cmsar  Lomellini  who  was  once  a peaceful  farmer 
in  the  State  of  Jefferson.” 

The  spy  paused.  The  Prince  said : 

Well,  who  are  the  others?  ” 

‘^It  is  reported  that  the  second  in  command,  but 
really  ^ the  brains  of  the  organization,’ as  he  is  called 
by  the  men,  is  a Russian  Jew.  His  name  I could  not 
learn;  very  few  have  seen  him  or  know  anything 
about  him.  He  is  said  to  be  a cripple,  and  to  have  a 
crooked  neck.  It  is  reported  he  was  driven  out  of  his 
synagogue  in  Russia,  years  ago,  for  some  crimes  he 
had  committed.  He  is  believed  to  be  the  man  who 
organized  the  Brotherhood  in  Europe,  and  he  has 
come  here  to  make  the  two  great  branches  act 
together.  If  what  is  told  of  him  be  true,  he  must  be 
a man  of  great  ability,  power  and  cunning.” 

Who  is  the  third?  ” asked  the  Prince. 

‘‘There  seems  to  be  more  obscurity  about  him 
than  either  of  the  others,”  replied  the  spy.  “I 
heard  once  that  he  was  an  American,  a young  man 
of  great  wealth  and  ability,  and  that  he  had  fur- 
nished much  of  the  money  needed  to  carry  on  the 
Brotherhood.  But  this  again  is  denied  by  others. 
Jenkins,  who  was  one  of  our  party,  and  who  was 


148 


CjEsar's  column. 


killed  some  months  since,  told  me,  in  our  last  inter- 
view,  that  he  had  penetrated  far  enough  to  find  out 
who  the  third  man  was ; and  he  told  me  this  curious 
story,  which  may  or  may  not  be  true.  He  said  that 
several  years  ago  there  lived  in  this  city  a man  of 
large  fortune,  a lawyer  by  education,  but  not  en- 
gaged in  the  practice  of  his  profession,  by  the  name 
of  Arthur  Phillips.  He  was  a benevolent  man,  of 
scholarly  tastes,  and  something  of  a dreamer.  He 
had  made  a study  of  the  works  of  all  the  great 
socialist  writers,  and  had  become  a convert  to  their 
theories,  and  very  much  interested  in  the  cause  of 
the  working  people.  He  established  a monthl}^  jour- 
nal for  the  dissemination  of  his  views.  He  spoke  at 
the  meetings  of  the  workmen,  and  was  very  much 
beloved  and  respected  by  them.  Of  course,  so 
Jenkins  said,  all  this  was  very  distasteful  to  the  rul- 
ing class  (I  am  only  repeating  the  story  as  it  was 
told  to  me,  your  lordships  wall  please  remember), 
and  they  began  to  persecute  him.  First  he  was 
ostracised  from  his  caste.  But  this  did  not  trouble 
him  much.  He  had  no  family  but  his  wife  and 
one  son  who  Avas  away  at  the  university.  He 
redoubled  his  exertions  to  benefit  the  working 
classes.  At  this  time  he  had  a lawsuit  about  some 
property  Avith  a wealthy  and  infiuential  man,  a 
member  of  the  government.  In  the  course  of  the 
trial  Phillips  produced  a writing,  which  purported 
to  be  signed  by  two  men,  and  witnessed  by  tvA'O 
others ; and  Phillips  SAVore  he  saw  all  of  them  sign  it. 
Whereupon  not  only  the  men  themselves,  but  the 
two  Avitnesses  to  the  paper,  came  up  and  sav ore,  point- 
blank,  that  their  alleged  signatures  Avere  forgeries. 
There  were  four  oaths  against  one.  Phillips  lost  his 


CMSAR'S  COLUMN. 


149 


case.  But  this  was  not  the  worst  of  it.  The  next 
day  he  was  indicted  for  forgery  and  perjury;  and, 
despite  his  wealth  and  the  efforts  of  the  ablest  coun- 
sel he  could  employ,  he  was  convicted  and  sentenced 
to  twenty  years’  penal  servitude  in  the  state  prison. 
His  friends  said  he  was  innocent;  that  he  had 
been  sacrificed  by  the  ruling  class,  who  feared  him 
and  desired  to  destroy  him;  that  all  the  witnesses 
had  been  suborned  by  large  sums  of  money  to  swear 
as  they  did ; that  the  j ury  was  packed,  the  judge  one  of 
their  tools,  and  even  his  own  lawyers  corrupted. 
After  several  years  his  son — who  bore  the  same 
name  as  himself — Arthur  Phillips — returned  from 
the  university;  and  Jenkins  told  me  that  he  had 
learned,  in  some  mysterious  way,  that  this  was 
really  the  man  who,  out  of  revenge  for  the  wrongs 
inflicted  on  his  father,  was  now  the  third  member  of 
the  Executive  Committee  of  the  Brotherhood,  and 
had  furnished  them  with  large  sums  of  money.” 

As  this  story  progressed,  listened  to  most  attent- 
ively by  all,  I noticed  that  one  lai’ge  man,  flashily 
dressed,  flushed  somewhat,  and  that  the  rest  turned 
and  looked  at  him.  When  Andrews  stopped,  the 
Prince  said,  quietly : 

“Count,  that  is  your  man.” 

“Yes,”  replied  the  man  spoken  to,  very  coolly. 
“There  is,  however,  no  truth,”  he  added,  “in  the  lat- 
ter part  of  the  story ; for  I have  had  detectives 
shadow  young  Phillips  ever  since  he  returned  to  the 
city,  and  they  report  to  me  that  he  is  a shallow, 
dissipated,  drunken,  worthless  fellow,  who  spends  his 
time  about  saloons  and  running  after  actresses  and 
singers;  and  that  it  will  not  be  long  until  he  will 
have  neither  health  nor  fortune  left.” 


150 


CESAR’S  COLUMN. 


I need  not  say  that  I was  an  intent  listener  to 
everything,  and  especially  to  the  latter  part  of  the 
spy’s  story.  I pieced  it  out  with  what  Maximilian 
had  told  me,  and  felt  certain  that  Maximilian 
Petion  and  Arthur  Phillips  were  one  and  the  same 
person.  I could  now  understand  why  it  was  that  a 
gentleman  so  intelligent,  frank  and  kindly  by  nature 
could  have  engaged  in  so  desperate  and  bloody  a 
conspiracy.  Nor  could  I,  with  that  awful  narrative 
ringing  in  my  ears,  blame  him  much.  What  struck 
me  most  forcibly  was  that  there  was  no  attempt,  on 
the  part  of  the  Count,  to  deny  the  sinister  part  of 
Jenkins’  story ; and  the  rest  of  the  Council  evidently 
had  no  doubt  of  its  truth ; nor  did  it  seem  to  lessen 
him  a particle  in  their  esteem.  In  fact,  one  man  said, 
and  the  rest  assented  to  the  sentiment : 

“Well,  it  is  a lucky  thing  the  villain  is  locked  up, 
anyhow.” 

There  were  some  among  these  men  whose  faces 
were  not  bad.  Under  favorable  circumstances  they 
might  have  been  good  and  just  men.  But  they  were 
the  victims  of  a pernicious  system,  as  fully  as  were 
the  poor,  shambling,  ragged  wretches  of  the  streets 
and  slums,  who  had  been  ground  down  by  their  acts 
into  drunkenness  and  crime. 

“When  will  the  outbreak  come?  ” asked  one  of  the 
Council. 

“That  I cannot  tell,”  said  Andrews.  “They  seem  ' 
to  be  waiting  for  something,  or  there  is  a hitch  in 
their  plans.  The  men  are  eager  to  break  forth,  and 
are  only  held  back  by  the  leaders.  By  their  talk 
they  are  confident  of  success  when  the  insurrection 
does  come.” 

“ What  are  their  plans?  ” asked  the  Prince, 


CJSSAR'S  COLUMN. 


151 


“They  have  none,”  replied  Andrews,  “except  to 
burn,  rob,  destroy  and  murder.  They  have  long 
lists  of  the  condemned,  I am  told,  including  all  those 
here  present,  and  hundreds  of  thousands  besides. 
They  will  kill  all  the  men,  women  and  children  of  the 
aristocracy,  except  the  young  girls,  and  these  will 
be  reserved  for  a worse  fate — at  least  that  is  w'hat 
the  men  about  the  beer-houses  mutter  between  their 
cups.” 

The  members  of  the  government  looked  uneasy; 
some  even  were  a trifle  pale. 

“Can  you  come  here  Wednesday  night  next  and 
tell  us  what  you  learn  during  your  visit  to  their 
‘Council  of  One  Hundred  ’?”  asked  the  Prince. 

“ Yes,”  replied  Andrews — “ if  I am  alive.  But  it  is 
dangerous  for  me  to  come  here.” 

“Wait  in  the  library,”  said  the  Prince,  “until  I 
am  at  liberty,  and  I will  give  you  an  order  for  the 
thousand  dollars  I promised  you ; and  also  a key 
that  will  admit  you  to  this  house  at  any  hour  of  the 
day  or  night.  Gentlemen,”  he  said,  turning  to  his 
associates,  “have  you  any  further  questions  to  ask 
this  man?  ” 

They  had  none,  and  Andrews  withdrew. 

“I  think,”  said  the  Prince,  “we  had  better  reas- 
semble here  on  Wednesday  night.  Matters  are  grow- 
ing critical.” 

This  was  agreed  to.  The  Prince  stepped  to  the 
door  and  whispered  a few  words  to  Rudolph. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

THE  MASTER  OP  “THE  DEMONS.” 

The  door,  in  a few  minutes,  opened,  and  closed 
behind  a tall,  handsome,  military-looking  man,  in  a 
bright  uniform,  with  the  insignia  of  a brigadier-gen- 
eral of  the  United  States  army  on  his  shoulders. 

The  Prince  greeted  him  respectfully  and  invited 
him  to  a seat. 

“General  Quincy,”  said  the  Prince,  “I  need  not 
introduce  you  to  these  gentlemen;  you  have  met 
them  all  before.  I have  told  them  that  you  desired 
to  speak  to  them  about  matters  rela1;.ing  to  your 
command ; and  they  are  ready  to  hear  you.” 

“Gentlemen,”  said  the  General,  rising  to  his  feet, 
“I  regret  to  have  to  approach  you  once  more  in 
reference  to  the  pay  of  the  officers  and  men  of  my 
command.  I fear  you  will  think  them  importunate, 
if  not  unreasonable.  I am  not  here  of  my  own 
volition,  but  as  the  mouthpiece  of  others.  Neither 
have  I incited  them  to  make  these  demands  for  in- 
creased pay.  The  officers  and  men  seem  to  have  a 
high  sense  of  their  great  importance  in  the  present 
condition  of  public  affairs.  'Tfeey  openly  declare  that 
those  they  maintain  in  power  are  enjoying  royal 
affluence,  which  they  could  not  possess  for  a single 
day  without  their  aid;  and  therefore  they  claim 
that  they  should  be  well  paid.” 

The  General  paused,  and  the  Prince  said,  in  his 
smoothest  tones : 


CJSSAR'S  COLUMN. 


153 


“ That  is  not  an  unreasonable  view  to  take  of  the 
matter.  What  do  they  ask?  ” 

“I  have  here,”  replied  the  General,  drawing  a 
paper  from  his  pocket,  “a  schedule  of  their  de- 
mands, adopted  at  their  last  meeting.”  He  handed 
it  to  the  Prince. 

“You  will  see,”  he  continued,  “that  it  ranges 
from  $5,000  per  year,  for  the  common  soldiers,  up 
through  the  different  grades,  to  $25,000  per  year  for 
the  commanding  officer.” 

Not  a man  at  the  Council  table  winced  at  this 
extraordinary  demand.  The  Prince  said : 

“The  salari^s  asked  for  are  high;  but  they  will 
come  out  of  the  public  taxes  and  not  from  our  pock- 
ets ; and  if  you  can  assure  me  that  your  command, 
in  view  of  this  increase  of  compensation,  will  work 
with  increased  zeal,  faithfulness  and  courage  on 
behalf  of  law,  order  and  society,  I,  for  one,  should  be 
disposed  to  accede  to  the  demand  you  make.  What 
say  you,  gentlemen?  ” 

There  was  a general  expression  of  assent  around 
the  table. 

The  commander  of  the  Demons  thanked  them, 
and  assured  them  that  the  officers  and  men  would  be 
glad  to  hear  that  their  request  was  granted,  and 
that  the  Council  might  depend  upon  their  valor  and 
devotion  in  any  extremity  of  affairs. 

“Have  you  an  abundant  supply  of  the  death- 
bombs  on  hand  ? ” asked  the  Prince. 

“Yes,  many  tons  of  them,”  was  the  reply. 

“ Are  they  well  guarded  ? ” 

“Yes,  with  the  utmost  care.  A thousand  men  of 
my  command  watch  over  them  constantly.” 

“ Your  air-vessels  are  in  perfect  order?  ” 


154 


CESAR’S  COLUMN. 


“Yes;  we  drill  and  exercise  with  them  every  day.” 

“You  anticipate  an  outbreak?” 

“ Y^’es ; we  look  for  it  any  hour.” 

“Have  you  any  further  questions  to  ask  General 
Quincy?”  inquired  the  Prince. 

“None.” 

He  was  bowed  out  and  the  door  locked  behind 
him.  The  Prince  returned  to  his  seat. 

“ Gentlemen,” he  said,  “that  matter  is  settled,  and 
we  are  safe  for  the  present.  But  you  can  see  the 
ticklish  ground  we  stand  on.  These  men  will  not  rest 
satisfied  with  the  immense  concessions  we  have  made 
them ; they  will  demand  more  and  more  as  the  con- 
sciousness of  their  power  increases.  They  know  we 
are  afraid  of  them.  In  time  they  will  assume  the 
absolute  control  of  the  government,  and  our  power 
will  be  at  an  end.  If  we  resist  them,  they  will  have 
but  to  drop  a few  of  their  death-bombs  through  the 
roofs  of  our  palaces,  and  it  is  all  over  with  us.” 

“ What  can  we  do  ? ” asked  two  or  three. 

“We  must  have  recourse  to  history,”  he  replied, 
“and  profit  by  the  experience  of  others  similarly 
situated.  In  the  thirteenth  century  the  sultan  of 
Egypt,  Malek-ed-Adell  the  Second,  organized  a body 
of  soldiery  made  up  of  slaves,  bought  from  the  Mon- 
gols, who  had  taken  them  in  battle.  They  were  called 
the  Bahri  Mamelukes.  They  formed  the  Sultan’s 
body-guard.  They  were  mounted  on  the  finest  horses 
in  the  world,  and  clad  in  the  most  magnificent 
dresses.  They  were  of  our  own  white  race — Circas- 
sians. But  Malek  had  unwittingly  created,  out  of 
the  slaves,  a dangerous  power.  They,  not  many 
years  afterward,  deposed  and  murdered  his  son, 
and  placed  their  general  on  the  throne.  For  several 


CJESAR’S  COLUMN. 


155 


generations  they  ruled  Egypt.  To  circumscribe  their 
power  a new  army  of  Mamelukes  was  formed, 
called  the  Borgis.  But  the  cure  was  as  bad  as  the 
disease.  In  1382  the  Borgi  Mamelukes  rose  up, 
overthrew  their  predecessors,  and  made  their  leader, 
Barkok,  supreme  ruler.  This  dynasty  held  power 
until  1517,  when  the  Ottoman  Turks  conquered 
Egypt.  The  Turks  perceived  that  they  must  either 
give  up  Egypt  or  destroy  the  Mamelukes.  They 
massacred  them  in  great  numbers;  and,  at  last, 
Mehemet  Ali  beguiled  four  hundred  and  seventy  of 
their  leaders  into  the  citadel  of  Cairo,  and  closed  the 
gates,  and  ordered  his  mercenaries  to  fire  upon  them. 
But  one  man  escaped.  He  leaped  his  horse  from  the 
ramparts  and  escaped  unhurt,  although  the  horse 
was  killed  by  the  prodigious  fall. 

“ Now,  let  us  apply  this  teaching  of  history.  I pro- 
pose that  after  this  outbreak  is  over  we  shall  order 
the  construction  of  ten  thousand  more  of  these  air- 
vessels,  and  this  will  furnish  us  an  excuse  for  sending 
a large  force  of  apprentices  to  the  present  command 
to  learn  the  management  of  the  ships.  We  will 
select  from  the  circle  of  our  relatives  some  young, 
able,  reliable  man  to  command  these  new  troops. 
We  will  then  seize  upon  the  magazine  of  bombs  and 
arrest  the  officers  and  men.  We  will  charge  them 
with  treason.  The  officers  we  will  execute,  and  the 
men  we  will  send  to  prison  for  life ; for  it  would  not  be 
safe,  with  their  dangerous  knowledge,  to  liberate 
them.  After  that  we  will  keep  the  magazine  of  bombs 
and  the  secret  of  the  poison  in  the  custody  of  men  of 
our  own  caste,  so  that  the  troops  commanding  the 
air-ships  will  never  again  feel  that  sense  of  power 
which  now  possesses  them.” 


156 


CjESar’s  column. 


These  plans  met  with  general  approval. 

“But  what  are  we  to  do  with  the  coming  out- 
break?” asked  one  of  the  councilors. 

“I  have  thought  of  that,  too,”  replied  the  Prince. 
“It  is  our  interest  to  make  it  the  occasion  of  a tre- 
mendous massacre,  such  as  the  world  has  never 
before  witnessed.  There  are  too  many  people  on  the 
earth,  anyhow.  In  this  way  we  will  strike  such 
terror  into  the  hearts  of  the  canaille  that  they  will 
remain  submissive  to  our  will,  and  the  domination  of 
our  children,  for  centuries  to  come.  ” 

“But  how  will  you  accomplish  that?”  asked  one. 

“ Easily  enough,”  replied  the  Prince.  “You  know 
that  the  first  step  such  insurgents  usually  take  is  to 
tear  up  the  streets  of  the  city  and  erect  barricades  of 
stones  and  earth  and  everything  else  they  can  lay 
their  hands  on.  Heretofore  we  have  tried  to  stop 
them.  My  advice  is  that  we  let  them  alone — let 
them  build  their  barricades  as  high  and  as  strong  as 
they  please,-  and  if  they  leave  any  outlets  unob- 
structed, let  our  soldiers  close  them  up  in  the  same 
way.  We  have  then  got  them  in  a rat-trap,  sur- 
rounded by  barricades,  and  every  street  and  alley 
outside  occupied  by  our  troops.  If  there  are  a 
million  in  the  trap,  so  much  the  better.  Then  let  our 
flock  of  Demons  sail  up  over  them  and  begin  to  drop 
their  fatal  bombs.  The  whole  streets ‘within  the 
barricades  will  soon  be  a sea  of  invisible  poison.  If 
the  insurgents  try  to  fly  they  will  find  in  their  own 
barricades  the  walls  of  their  prison-house;  and  if 
they  attempt  to  scale  them  they  will  be  met,  face  to 
face,  with  our  massed  troops,  who  will  be  instructed 
to  take  no  prisoners.  If  they  break  into  the  adja- 
cent houses  to  escape,  our  men  will  follow  from  the 


CESAR'S  COLUMN. 


157 


back  streets  and  gardens  and  bayonet  them  at  their 
leisure,  or  fling  them  back  into  the  poison.  If  ten 
millions  are  slain  all  over  the  world,  so  much  the 
better.  There  will  be  more  room  for  what  are  left, 
and  the  world  will  sleep  in  peace  for  centuries. 

“These  plans  will  be  sent  out,  with  your  ap- 
proval, to  all  our  cities,  and  to  Europe.  When  the 
rebellion  is  crushed  in  the  cities,  it  will  not  take  long 
to  subdue  it  among  the  wretched  peasants  of  the 
country,  and  our  children  will  rule  this  world  for 
ages  to  come.” 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

Gabriel’s  POLLY. 

While  the  applause  that  followed  this  diabolical 
scheme  rang  loud  and  long  around  the  council- 
chamber,  I stood  there  paralyzed.  My  eyes  dilated 
and  my  heart  beat  furiously.  I was  overwhelmed 
with  the  dreadful,  the  awdul  prospect,  so  coolly  pre- 
sented by  that  impassive,  terrible  man.  My  imag- 
ination was  always  vivid,  and  I saw  the  w'hole 
horrid  reality  unrolled  before  me  like  a panorama. 
The  swarming  streets  filled  with  the  oppressed  peo- 
ple; the  dark  shadows  of  the  Demons  floating  over 
them ; the  first  bomb ; the  terror ; the  confusion ; the 
gasping  of  the  dying;  the  shrieks,  the  groans — 
another  and  another  bomb  falling  here,  there, 
everywhere ; the  surging  masses  rushing  from 
death  to  death;  the  wild  flight;  the  barricades 
a line  of  fire  and  bayonets;  the  awful  and  contin- 
uous rattle  of  the  guns,  sounding  like  the  grinding 
of  some  dreadful  machinery  that  crunches  the 
bones  of  the  living;  the  recoil  from  the  bullets  to 
the  poison;  the  wounded  stumbling  over  the  dead, 
now  covering  the  streets  in  sti'ata  several  feet 
thick;  and  still  the  bombs  crash  and  the  poison 
spreads.  Death ! death ! nothing  but  death ! Ten 
million  dead!  Oh,  my  God ! 

I clasped  my  head — it  felt  as  if  it  would  burst.  I 
must  save  the  world  from  such  a calamity.  These 
men  are  human.  They  cannot  be  insensible  to  an 
appeal  for  mercy — for  justice  ! 


CESAR’S  COLUMN. 


159 


Carried  away  by  these  tlioughts,  I stooped  down 
and  unclasped  the  hooks;  I pushed  aside  the  box; 
I crawled  out;  the  next  moment  I stood  before  them 
in  the  full  glare  of  the  electric  lamps. 

“For  God’s  sake,”  I cried,  “save  the  world  from 
such  an  awful  calamity!  Have  pity  on  mankind; 
even  as  you  hope  that  the  Mind  and  Heart  of  the 
Universe  will  have  pity  on  you.  I have  heard  all. 
Do  not  plunge  the  earth  into  horrors  that  will  shock 
the  very  stars  in  their  courses.  The  world  can  be 
saved!  It  can  be  saved!  You  have  power.  Be 
pitiful.  Let  me  speak  for  you.  Let  me  go  to  the 
leaders  of  this  insurrection  and  bring  you  together.” 

“ He  is  mad,”  said  one. 

“No,  no,”  I replied,  “I  am  not  mad.  It  is  you 
that  are  mad.  It  is  the  wretched  people  who  are 
mad — mad  with  suffering  and  misery,  as  you  with 
pride  and  hardness  of  heart.  You  are  all  men. 
Hear  their  demands.  Yield  a little  of  your  surperflu- 
ous  blessings ; and  touch  their  hearts  with  kindness, 
and  love  will  spring  up  like  flowers  in  the  track  of 
the  harrow.  For  the  sake  of  Christ  Jesus,  who  died 
on  the  cross  for  all  men,  I appeal  to  you.  Be  just, 
be  generous,  be  merciful.  Are  they  not  your  breth- 
ren? Have  they  not  souls  like  yourselves?  Speak, 
speak,  and  I will  toil  as  long  as  I can  breathe.  I will 
wear  the  flesh  from  off  my  bones,  if  I can  reconcile 
the  castes  of  this  wretched  society,  and  save  civiliza- 
tion.” 

The  Prince  had  recoiled  with  terror  at  my 
first  entrance.  He  had  now  rallied  his  faculties. 

“How  did  you  come  here?  ” he  asked. 

Fortunately  the  repulsive  coldness  with  which 
the  Council  had  met  my  earnest  appeals,  which  I had 


160 


CHAR'S  COLUMN. 


fairly  shrieked  at  them,  had  restored  to  some 
extent  the  balance  of  my  reason.  The  though^ 
flashed  over  me  that  I must  not  betray  Rudolph. 

“Through  yonder  open  window,”  I replied. 

“ How  did  you  reach  it?  ” asked  the  Prince. 

“ I climbed  up  the  ivy  vine  to  it.” 

“What  did  you  come  here  for?  ” he  asked. 

“To  appeal  to  you,  in  the  name  of  God,  to  pre- 
vent the  coming  of  this  dreadful  outbreak.” 

“The  man  is  a religious  fanatic,”  said  one  of  the 
Council  to  another;  “probably  one  of  the  street 
preachers.” 

The  Prince  drew  two  or  three  of  the  leaders 
together,  and  they  whispered  for  a few  minutes. 
Then  he  went  to  the  door  and  spoke  to  Rudolph.  1 
caught  a few  words:  “Not  leave — alive — send  for 
M acarius — midnight — garden.  ” 

Rudolph  advanced  and  took  me  by  the  arm.  The 
revulsion  had  come.  I was  dazed  — overwhelmed. 
There  swept  over  me,  like  the  rush  of  a flood,  the 
dreadful  thought:  “What  will  become  of  Estella?” 
I went  with  him  like  a child.  I was  armed,  but  an 
infant  might  have  slain  me. 

When  w^e  were  in  the  hall,  Rudolph  said  to  me,  in  a 
hoarse  whisper: 

“ I heard  everything.  You  meant  nobly ; but  you 
were  foolish — wild.  You  might  have  ruined  us  all. 
But  there  is  a chance  of  escape  yet.  It  will  be  an 
hour  before  the  assassin  will  arrive.  I can  secure 
that  much  delay.  In  the  meantime,  be  prudent  and 
silent,  and  follow  my  directions  implicitly.” 

I promised,  very  humbly,  to  do  so. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

THE  FLIGHT  AND  PURSUIT. 

He  opened  the  door  of  a room  and  pushed  me  into 
it.  “Wait,”  he  whispered,  “for  my  orders.”  I looked 
around  me.  It  was  Rudolph’s  room — the  one  I had 
been  in  before.  I was  not  alone.  There  was  a young 
gentleman  standing  at  a window,  looking  out  into 
the  garden.  He  turned  around  and  advanced 
toward  me,  with  his  hand  extended  and  a smile  on 
his  face.  It  was  Estella!  looking  more  charming 
than  ever  in  her  masculine  dress.  I took  her  hand. 
Then  my  heart  smote  me ; and  I fell  upon  my  knees 
before  her. 

“0  Estella,”  I cried,  “pardon  me.  I would  have 
sacrificed  you  for  mankind — you  that  are  dearer  to 
me  than  the  whole  human  race.  Like  a fool  I broke 
from  my  hiding-place,  and  appealed  to  those  hearts 
of  stone — those  wild  beasts — those  incarnate  fiends 
— to  spare  the  world  the  most  dreadful  calamity  it 
has  ever  known.  They  proposed  to  murder  ten  mill- 
ion human  beings!  I forgot  my  task — my  duty — 
you — my  own  safety — everything,  to  save  the 
world.” 

Her  eyes  dilated  as  I spoke,  and  then,  without  a 
trace  of  mock  modesty,  without  a blush,  she  laid  her 
hand  upon  my  head  and  said  simply : 

“If  you  had  done  less,  I should  have  loved  you 
less.  What  am  I in  the  presence  of  such  a catas- 
trophe? Rut  if  you  are  to  die  we  can  at  least  perish 


162 


CJSSAR’S  COLUMN. 


together.  In  that  we  have  the  mastery  of  our  ene- 
mies. Our  liberty  is  beyond  their  power.” 

“But  you  shall  not  die,”  I said,  wildly,  springing  to 
my  feet.  “ The  assassin  comes ! Give  me  the  poisoned 
knife.  When  he  opens  the  door  I shall  slay  him. 
I shall  bear  you  with  me.  Who  will  dare  to  arrest 
our  departure  with  that  dreadful  weapon — that  in- 
stantaneous death — shining  in  my  hand.  Besides,  I 
carry  a hundred  lives  at  my  girdle.  Once  in  the 
streets,  we  can  escape.” 

She  took  from  the  pocket  of  her  coat  the  sheathed 
dagger  and  handed  it  to  me. 

“ We  must,  however,  be  guided  by  the  counsels  of 
Rudolph,”  she  quietly  said;  “he  is  a faithful  friend.” 

“True,”  I replied. 

We  sat  near  each  other.  I presumed  nothing  upon 
the  great  admission  she  had  so  gravely  made.  This 
was  a woman  to  be  worshiped  rather  than  wooed. 
I told  her  all  the  story  of  my  life.  I described  my 
home  in  that  strange,  wild,  ancient,  lofty  land  ; my 
mother,  my  brothers;  the  wide,  old,  roomy  house; 
the  trees,  the  flowers,  the  clustering,  bleating  sheep. 

A half  hour  passed.  The  door  opened.  A burst  of 
laughter  and  the  clinking  of  glasses  resounded 
through  it.  Rudolph  entered. 

“The  Prince  and  his  friends,”  he  said,  “make 
merry  over  their  assured  victory.  If  you  will  tell 
Maximilian  all  you  have  heard  to-night,  the  result 
may  be  different  from  what  they  anticipate.  Come 
with  me.” 

He  led  the  way  through  a suite  of  two  or  three 
rooms  which  communicated  with  his  apartment. 

“We  must  throw  the  hounds  off  the  scent  of  the 
fox,”  he  said ; and,  to  our  astonishment,  he  proceeded 


CESAR'S  COLUMN. 


163 


to  tear  down  the  heavy  curtains  from  two  windows, 
having  first  locked  the  door  and  closed  the  outer  shut- 
ters. He  then  tore  the  curtains  into  long  strips, 
knotting  them  together ; we  pulled  upon  them  to  test 
their  strength.  He  then  opened  one  of  the  windows 
and  dropped  the  end  of  the  long  rope  thus  formed 
out  of  it,  fastening  the  other  end  to  a heavy  piece  of 
furniture,  within  the  room. 

“That  will  account  for  your  escape,”  he  said.  “I 
have  already  thrown  the  rope  ladder  from  the  win- 
dow of  the  room  Estella  occupied.  These  precautions 
are  necessary  for  my  own  safety.” 

Then,  locking  the  communicating  doors,  we  re- 
turned to  his  room. 

“ Put  this  cloak  over  your  shoulders,”  he  said;  “it 
will  help  disguise  you.  Walk  boldly  down  these 
stairs,”  opening  another  door — not  the  one  we  had 
entered  by  ; “turn  to  the  right — to  the  right,  remem- 
ber— and  on  your  left  hand  you  will  soon  find  a 
door — the  first  you  will  come  to.  Open  it.  Say  to 
the  man  on  guard : ‘ Show  me  to  the  carriage  of 
Lord  Southworth.’  There  is  no  such  person;  but 
that  is  the  signal  agreed  upon.  He  will  lead  you  to 
the  carriage.  Maximilian  is  the  footman.  Farewell, 
and  may  God  bless  you.” 

We  shook  hands.  I followed  his  directions;  we  met 
no  one;  I opened  the  door;  the  guard,  as  soon  as  I 
uttered  the  pass-word,  led  me,  through  a mass  of  car- 
riages, to  where  one  stood  somewhat  back  under 
some  overhanging  trees.  The  footman  hurried  to 
open  the  door.  I gave  mj^  hand  to  Estella;  she 
sprang  in ; I followed  her.  But  this  little  movement 
of  instinctive  courtesy  on  my  part  toward  a 
woman  had  been  noticed  by  one  of  the  many  spies 


164 


CMSAH’S  COLUMN. 


hanging  around.  He  thought  it  strange  that  one 
man  should  offer  his  hand  to  assist  another  into  a 
carriage.  He  whispered  his  suspicions  to  a comrade. 
We  had  hardly  gone  two  blocks  from  the  palace 
Avhen  Maximilian  leaned  down  and  said:  “I  fear  we 
are  followed.” 

Our  carriage  turned  into  another  street,  and  then 
into  another.  I looked  out  and  could  see — for  the 
streets  were  very  bright  with  the  magnetic  light — that, 
some  distance  behind  us,  came  two  carriages  close 
together,  while  at  a greater  distance,  behind  them, 
I caught  sight  of  a third  vehicle.  Maximilian  leaned 
down  again  and  said : * # 

“We  are  certainly  pursued  by  two  carriages.  The 
third  one  I recognize  as  our  own — the  man  with 
the  bombs.  We  will  drive  to  the  first  of  the  houses 
we  have  secured.  Be  ready  to  spring  out  the  moment 
we  stop,  and  follow  me  quickly  into  the  house,  for 
all  depends  on  the  rapidity  of  our  movements.” 

In  a little  while  the  carriage  suddenly  stopped.  I 
took  Estella’s  hand.  She  needed  no  help.  Maximil- 
ian was  ascending  the  steps  of  a house,  key  in  hand. 
We  followed.  I looked  back.  One  of  our  pui’suers 
was  a block  away;  the  other  a little  behind  him. 
The  carriage  with  the  bombs  I could  not  see — it 
might  be  obscured  by  the  trees,  or  it  might  have  lost 
us  in  the  fierce  speed  with  which  we  had  traveled. 

“Quick,”  said  Maximilian,  pulling  us  in  and  lock- 
ing the  door. 

We  followed  him,  running  through  a long, 
lighted  hall,  out  into  a garden ; a gate  flew 
open ; we  rushed  across  the  street  and  sprang  into 
another  carriage;  Maximilian  leaped  to  his  place; 
crack  went  the  whip,  and  away  we  flew ; but  on  the 


CESAR'S  COLUMN. 


165 


instant  the  quick  eyes  of  my  friend  saw,  rapidly 
whirling  around  the  next  corner,  one  of  the  carriages 
that  had  been  pursuing  us. 

“They  suspected  our  trick,”  said  he.  “Where,  in 
heaven’s  name,  is  the  man  with  the  bombs?  ” he  add- 
ed, anxiously. 

Our  horses  were  swift,  but  still  that  shadow  clung 
to  us ; the  streets  were  still  and  deserted,  for  it  was 
after  midnight ; but  they  were  as  bright  as  if  the  full 
moon  shone  in  an  unclouded  sky. 

“Ah!  there  he  comes,  at  last,”  said  Maximilian, 
with  a sigh  of  relief.  “I  feared  we  might  meet  an- 
other carriage  of  the  police,  and  this  fellow  behind 
us  would  call  it  to  his  help,  and  our  case  would  be 
desperate,  as  they  would  know  our  trick.  We 
should  have  to  fight  for  it.  Now  observe  what  takes 
place.” 

Estella,  kneeling  on  the  cushions,  looked  out 
through  the  glass  window  in  the  back  of  the  car- 
riage : I leaned  far  out  at  the  side. 

“See,  Estella,”  I cried,  “how  that  hindmost  team 
flies!  They  move  like  race-horses  on  the  course.” 

Nearer  and  nearer  they  come  to  our  pursuers; 
they  are  close  behind  them;  the  driver  of  the  front 
carriage  seems  to  know  that  there  is  danger;  he 
lashes  his  horses  furiously;  it  is  in  vain.  Now  they 
are  side  by  side — side  by  side  for  a time;  but  now 
our  friends  forge  slowly  ahead.  The  driver  of  the 
beaten  team  suddenly  pulls  his  horses  back  on  their 
haunches.  It  is  too  late.  A man  stands  up  on  the 
seat  of  the  front  carriage — it  is  an  open  barouche. 
I could  see  his  arm  desci’ibe  an  arc  through  the  air ; 
the  next  instant  the  whole  street  was  ablaze  with  a 
flash  of  brilliant  red  light,  and  the  report  of  a tre- 


166 


CESAR’S  COLUMN. 


mendous  explosion  rang  m~rny  eara.  'rhrough  tlie 
smoke  and  dust  1 could  dimly  see  the  horses  of  our 
pursuers  piled  in  a heap  upon  the  street,  kicking, 
plunging,  dying. 

“It  is  all  right  now,”  said  Maximilian  quietly; 
and  then  he  spoke  to  the  driver:  “Turn  the  next 
corner  to  the  left.” 

After  having  made  several  changes  of  direction 
— with  intent  to  throw  any  other  possible  pursuers 
off  the  track — and  it  being  evident  that  we  were  not 
followed,  except  by  the  cariuage  of  our  friends,  we 
drove  slowly  to  Maximilian’s  house  and  alighted. 

The  sweet-faced  old  lady  took  the  handsome, 
seeming  boy,  Estella,  in  her  arms,  and  with  hearty 
cordiality  welcomed  her  to  her  new  home.  We  left 
them  together,  mingling  tears  of  joy. 

Max  and  I adjourned  to  the  library,  and  there,  at 
his  request,  I told  him  all  that  had  happened  in  the 
council-chamber.  He  smoked  his  cigar  and  listened 
attentively.  His  face  darkened  as  I repeated  the 
spy ’s  story,  but  he  neither  admitted  nor  denied  the 
truth  of  that  part  which  I thought  related  to  himself. 
When  I told  him  about  the  commander  of  the  air- 
ships, his  interest  was  so  great  that  his  cigar  w'ent 
out;  and  when  I narrated  the  conversation  which 
occurred  after  General  Quincy  had  left  the  room  his 
face  lighted  up  with  a glow  of  joy.  He  listened 
intently  to  the  account  of  the  Prince ’s  plan  of  battle, 
and  smiled  grimly.  But  when  I told  how  1 came  from 
my  hiding-place  and  appealed  to  the  Oligarchy  to 
spare  mankind,  he  rose  from  his  chair  and  walked 
the  room,  profoundly  agitated ; and  when  I had  fin- 
ished, by  narrating  how  Rudolph  led  me  to  his  room, 
to  the  presence  of  Estella,  he  threw  his  arms  around 


CESAR’S  COLUMN. 


167 


my  neck,  and  said,  “ You  dear  old  fool ! It  was  just 
like  you but  I could  see  that  his  eyes  were  wet  with 
emotion. 

Then  he  sat  for  some  time  in  deep  thought.  At 
last  he  said : 

“ Gabriel,  would  you  be  willing  to  do  something 
more  to  serve  me?  ” 

“Certainly,”  I replied;  “anything.” 

“Would  you  go  with  me  to-morrow  night  and  tell 
this  tale  to  the  council  of  our  Brotherhood?  My 
own  life  and  the  lives  of  my  friends,  and  the  liberty  ol 
one  dear  to  me,  may  depend  upon  your  doing  so.” 

“ I shall  go  with  you  most  willingly,”  I said.  “To 
tell  you  the  truth,”  I added,  “while  I cannot  approve 
of  your  terrible  Brotherhood,  nevertheless  what  I 
have  seen  and  heard  to-night  satisfies  me  that  the 
Plutocrats  should  no  longer  cumber  the  earth  with 
their  presence.  Men  who  can  coolly  plot,  amid  laugh- 
ter, the  death  of  ten  million  human  beings,  for  the 
purpose  of  preserving  their  ill-gotten  wealth  and 
their  ill-used  power,  should  be  exterminated  from  the 
face  of  the  planet  as  enemies  of  mankind — as  poison- 
ous snakes — vermin.” 

He  grasped  my  hand  and  thanked  me. 

It  was  pleasant  to  think,  that  night,  that  Estella 
loved  me ; that  I had  saved  her ; that  we  were  under 
the  same  roof;  and  I wove  visions  in  my  brain 
brighter  than  the  dreams  of  fairyland ; and  Estella 
moved  everywhere  amid  them,  a radiant  angel. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

THE  EXECUTION. 

“Now,  Gabkiee,”  said  Max,  “I  will  have  to  blind- 
fold you — not  that  I mistrust  you,  but  that  I have 
to  satisfy  the  laws  of  our  society  and  the  scruples  of 
others.” 

This  was  said  just  before  we  opened  the  door.  He 
folded  a silk  handkerchief  over  mj'-  face,  and  led  me 
down  the  steps  and  seated  me  in  a carriage.  He 
gave  some  whispered  directions  to  the  driver,  and 
away  we  rolled.  It  was  a long  drive.  At  last  I ob- 
served that  peculiar  salty  and  limy  smell  in  the  air, 
which  told  me  we  were  approaching  the  river.  The 
place  was  very  still  and  solitary.  There  were  no 
sounds  of  vehicles  or  foot-passengers.  The  carriage 
slowed  up,  and  we  stopped. 

“This  way,”  said  Max,  opening  the  door  of  the 
carriage,  and  leading  me  by  the  hand.  We  walked  a 
few  steps;  we  paused;  there  were  low  whisperings. 
Then  we  descended  a long  flight  of  steps ; the  air  had 
a heavy  and  subterranean  smell ; we  hurried  forward 
through  a large  chamber ; I imagined  it  to  be  the  cel- 
lar of  some  abandoned  warehouse;  the  light  came 
faintly  through  the  bandage  over  my  face,  and  I in- 
ferred that  a guide  was  carrying  a lantern  before  us. 
Again  we  stopped.  There  was  more  whispering 
and  the  rattle  of  paper,  as  if  the  guards  were  examin- 
ing some  document.  The  whispering  was  renewed; 
then  we  entered  and  descended  again  a flight  of  steps, 

168 


CJESAR'S  COLUMN. 


169 


and  again  went  forward  for  a short  distance.  The 
air  was  very  damp  and  the  smell  earthy.  Again  I 
heard  the  whispering  and  the  rattling  of  paper. 
There  was  delay.  Some  one  within  was  sent  for  and 
Came  out.  Then  the  door  was  flung  open,  and  we  en- 
tered a room  in  which  the  air  appeared  to  be  drier 
than  in  those  we  had  passed  through,  and  it  seemed 
to  be  lighted  up.  There  were  little  movements  and 
stirrings  of  the  atmosphere  which  indicated  that 
there  were  a number  of  persons  in  the  room.  I 
stood  still. 

Then  a stern,  loud  voice  said : 

“ Gabriel  Weltstein,  hold  up  your  right  hand.” 

I did  so.  The  voice  continued : 

“You  do  solemnly  swear,  in  the  presence  of  Al- 
mighty God,  that  the  statements  you  are  about  to 
make  are  just  and  true ; that  you  are  incited  to  make 
them  neither  by  corruption,  nor  hate,  nor  any  other 
unworthy  motive;  and  that  you  will  tell  the  truth 
and  all  the  truth ; and  to  this  you  call  all  the  terrors 
of  the  unknown  world  to  witness ; and  you  willingly 
accept  death  if  you  utter  anything  that  is  false.” 

I bowed  my  head. 

“ What  brother  vouches  for  this  stranger?  ” asked 
the  same  stern  voice. 

Then  I heard  Maximilian.  He  spoke  as  if  he  was 
standing  near  my  side.  He  said : 

“I  do.  If  I had  not  been  willing  to  vouch  for 
him  with  my  life,  I should  not  have  asked  to  bring 
him — not  a member  of  our  Brotherhood — into  this 
presence.  He  saved  my  life ; he  is  a noble,  just  and 
honorable  man  — one  who  loves  his  kind,  and  would 
bless  and  help  them  if  he  could,  He  has  a story  to 
tell  which  concerns  us  all,” 


170 


CESAR'S  COLUMN. 


“ Enough,”  said  the  voice.  “Were  you  present  in 
the  council-chamber  of  the  Prince  of  Cabano  last 
night?  If  so,  tell  us  what  you  saw  and  heard?  ” 

Just  then  there  was  a slight  noise,  as  if  some  one 
was  moving  quietly  toward  the  door  behind  me,  by 
which  I had  just  entered.  Then  came  another  voice, 
which  I had  not  before  heard — a thin,  shrill,  strident, 
imperious  voice— a voice  that  it  seemed  to  me  I 
shoud  recognize  again  among  a million.  It  cried  out: 

“Back  to  your  seat!  Bichard,  tell  the  guards  to 
permit  no  one  to  leave  this  chamber  until  the  end  of 
our  meeting.” 

There  was  a shuffling  of  feet,  and  whispering, 
and  then  again  profound  silence. 

“Proceed,”  said  the  stern  voice  that  had  first 
spoken. 

Concealing  all  reference  to  Estella,  and  omitting 
to  name  Rudolph,  whom  I referred  to  simply  as  one 
of  their  Brotherhood  known  to  Maximilian,  I told,  in 
the  midst  ctf  a grave-like  silence,  how  I had  been  hid- 
den in  the  room  next  to  the  council-chamber;  and 
then  I went  on  to  give  a concise  history  of  what  I 
had  witnessed  and  heard. 

“ Uncover  his  eyes  I ” exclaimed  the  stern  voice. 

Maximilian  untied  the  handkerchief.  For  a mo- 
ment or  two  I was  blinded  by  the  sudden  glare  of 
light.  Then,  as  my  eyes  recovered  their  function,  I 
could  see  that  I stood,  as  I had  supposed,  in  the  mid- 
dle of  a large  vault  or  cellar.  Around  the  room,  on 
rude  benches,  sat  perhaps  one  hundred  men.  At  the 
end,  on  a sort  of  dais,  or  raised  platform,  was  a man 
of  gigantic  stature,  masked  and  shrouded.  Below 
him,  upon  a smaller  elevation,  sat  another,  whose 
head,  I noticed  even  then,  was  crooked  to  one  side, 


CJSSAR’S  COLUMN. 


171 


Still  below  him,  on  a level  with  the  floor,  at  a table, 
were  two  men  who  seemed  to  be  secretaries.  Every 
man  present  wore  a black  mask  and  a long  cloak  of 
dark  material.  Near  me  stood  one  similarly 
shrouded,  who,  I thought,  from  the  size  and  figure, 
must  be  Maximilian. 

It  was  a solemn,  silent,  gloomy  assemblage,  and 
the  sight  of  it  thrilled  through  my  very  flesh  and 
bones.  I was  not  frightened,  but  appalled,  as  I saw 
all  those  eyes,  out  of  those  expressionless  dark  faces, 
fixed  upon  me.  I felt  as  if  they  were  phantoms, 
or  dead  men,  in  whom  only  the  eyes  lived. 

The  large  man  stood  up.  He  was  indeed  a giant. 
He  seemed  to  uncoil  himself  from  his  throne  as  he 
rose. 

“Unmask,’’  he  said. 

There  was  a rustle,  and  the  next  moment  the 
masks  were  gone  and  the  cloaks  had  fallen  down. 

It  was  an  extraordinary  assemblage  that  greeted 
my  eyes;  a long  array  of  stern  faces,  dark  and  toil- 
hardened,  with  great,  broad  brows  and  solemn  or 
sinister  eyes. 

Last  night  I had  beheld  the  council  of  the  Plu- 
tocracy. Here  was  the  council  of  the  Proletariat. 
The  large  heads  at  one  end  of  the  line  were  matched 
by  the  large  heads  at  the  other.  A great  injustice, 
or  series  of  wrongs,  working  through  many  genera- 
tions, had  wrought  out  results  that  in  some  sense 
duplicated  each  other.  Brutality  above  had  pro- 
duced brutality  below ; cunning  there  was  answered 
by  cunning  here ; cruelty  in  the  aristocrat  was  mir- 
rored by  cruelty  in  the  workman.  High  and  low 
were  alike  victims— unconscious  victims  — of  a sys- 
tem, The  crime  was  not  theirs : it  lay  at  the  door 


172 


CJB'MiJ’.S  COLUMN. 


of  the  shallow,  indifferent,  silly  generations  of  the 
past. 

My  eyes  sought  the  officers.  I noticed  that  Max- 
imilian was  disguised  — out  of  an  excess  of  caution, 
as  1 supposed — with  eye-glasses  and  a large  dark 
mustache.  His  face,  I knew,  was  really  beardless. 

I turned  to  the  president.  Such  a man  I had 
never  seen  before.  He  was,  I should  think,  not  less 
than  six  feet  six  inches  high,  and  broad  in  propor- 
tion. His  great  arms  hung  down  until  the  monstrous 
hands  almost  touched  the  knees.  His  skin  was  quite 
dark,  almost  negroid ; and  a thick,  close  mat  of  curly 
black  hair  covered  his  huge  head  like  a thatch.  His 
face  was  muscular,  ligamentous;  with  great  bars, 
ridges  and  whelks  of  flesh,  especially  about  the  jaws 
and  on  the  forehead.  But  the  eyes  fascinated  me. 
They  were  the  eyes  of  a wild  beast,  deep-set,  sullen 
and  glaring;  they  seemed  to  shine  like^ those  of  the 
cat-tribe,  with  a luminosity  of  their  own.  This,  then 
— I said  to  myself — must  be  Caesar,  the  commander 
of  the  dreaded  Brotherhood. 

A movement  attracted  me  to  the  man  who  sat  be- 
low him ; he  had  spoken  to  the  president. 

He  was  in  singular  contrast  with  his  superior.  He 
was  old  and  withered.  One  hand  seemed  to  be 
shrunken,  and  his  head  was  permanently  crooked  to 
one  side.  The  face  was  mean  and  sinister ; two  fangs 
alone  remained  in  his  mouth ; his  nose  was  hooked ; 
the  eyes  were  small,  sharp,  penetrating  and  rest- 
less ; but  the  expanse  of  brow  above  them  was  grand 
and  noble.  It  was  one  of  those  heads  that  look  as 
if  they  had  been  packed  full,  and  not  an  inch  of 
space  wasted.  His  person  was  unclean,  however, 
and  the  hands  and  the  long  finger-nails  were  black 


CESAR'S  COLUMN. 


173 


with  dirt.  I should  have  picked  him  out  anywhere 
as  a very  able  and  a very  dangerous  man.  He  was 
evidently  the  vice-president  of  whom  the  spy  had 
spoken — the  nameless  Russian  Jew  who  was  ac- 
counted “the  brains  of  the  Brotherhood.” 

“Gabriel  Wei tstein,”  said  the  giant,  in  the  same 
stern,  loud  voice,  “each  person  in  this  room  will  now 
pass  before  you, — the  officers  last ; and, — under  the 
solemn  oath  you  have  taken, — I call  upon  you  to  say 
whether  the  spy  you  saw  last  night  in  the  council- 
chamber  of  the  Prince  of  Cabano  is  among  them. 
But  first,  let  me  ask,  did  you  see  him  clearly,  and 
do  you  think  you  will  be  able  to  identify  him?  ” 

“Yes,”  I replied;  “he  faced  me  for  nearly  thirty 
minutes,  and  I should  certainly  know  him  if  I saw 
him  again.” 

“Brothers,”  said  the  president,  “you  will  now — ” 
But  here  there  Avas  a rush  behind  me.  I turned 
toward  the  door.  Two  men  were  scuffling  with  a 
third,  who  seemed  to  be  trying  to  break  out.  There 
were  the  sounds  of  a struggle ; then  muttered  curses ; 
then  the  quick,  sharp  report  of  a pistol.  There 
was  an  exclamation  of  pain  and  more  oaths ; knives 
flashed  in  the  air;  others  rushed  pell-mell  into  the 
melee;  and  then  the  force  of  numbers  seemed  to 
triumph,  and  the  crowd  came,  dragging  a man 
forward  to  where  I stood.  His  face  was  pale  as 
death;  the  blood  streamed  from  a flesh  wound  on 
his  forehead ; an  expression  of  dreadful  terror 
glared  out  of  his  eyes ; he  gasped  and  looked  from 
right  to  left.  The  giant  had  descended  from  his  dais. 
He  strode  forward.  The  wretch  was  laid  at  my  feet. 
“Speak,”  said  Caesar,  “is  that  the  man?  ” 

“ It  is,”  I replied, 

J 


174 


CESAR'S  COLUMN. 


The  giant  took  another  step,  and  he  towered  over 
the  prostrate  wretch. 

“Brothers,”  he  asked,  “what  is  your  judgment 
upon  the  spy?” 

“ Death !”  rang  the  cry  from  a hundred  throats. 

The  giant  put  his  hand  in  his  bosom ; there  was  a 
light  in  his  terrible  face  as  if  he  had  long  waited  for 
such  an  hour. 

“Lift  him  up,”  he  said. 

Two  strong  men  held  the  spy  by  his  arms ; they 
lifted  him  to  his  feet;  he  writhed  and  struggled 
and  shrieked,  but  the  hands  that  held  him  were  of 
iron. 

“Stop!”  said  the  thin,  strident  voice  I had  heard 
before,  and  the  cripple  advanced  into  the  circle.  He 
addressed  the  prisoner 

“ Were  you  followed  to  this  place?  ” 

“Yes,  yes,”  eagerly  cried  the  spy.  “Spare  me, 
spare  me,  and  I will  tell  you  everything.  Three  mem- 
bers of  the  police  force  were  appointed  to  follow,  in 
a carriage,  the  vehicle  that  brought  me  here.  They 
were  to  wait  about  until  the  meeting  broke  up  and 
then  shadow  the  tallest  man  and  a crook-necked  man 
to  their  lodgings  and  identify  them.  They  are  now 
waiting  in  the  dark  shadows  of  the  warehouse.” 

“Did  you  have  any  signal  agreed  upon  with 
them?”  asked  the  cripple. 

“Y’es,”  the  wretch  replied,  conscious  that  he  was 
giving  up  his  associates  to  certain  death,  but  willing 
to  sacrifice  the  whole  world  if  he  might  save  his  own 
life.  “ Spare  me,  spare  me,  and  I will  tell  you  all.” 

“Proceed,”  said  the  cripple. 

“I  would  not  trust  myself  to  be  known  by  them. 
I agreed  with  Prince  Cabano  upon  a signal  between 


CJSSAR’S  COLUMN. 


175 


US.  I am  to  come  to  them,  if  I need  their  help,  and 
say : ‘ Good  evening,  what  time  is  it?  ’ The  reply  is, 
‘It  is  thieves’ time.’  Then  I am  to  say,  ‘The  more 
the  better;’  and  they  are  to  follow  me.” 

“ Richard,”  said  the  cripple,  “ did  you  hear  that  ? ” 

“ Yes.” 

“ Take  six  men  with  you ; leave  them  in  the  brew- 
house  cellar;  lead  the  police  thither;  throw  the 
bodies  in  the  river.” 

The  man  called  Richard  withdrew,  wdth  his  men,  to 
his  work  of  murder. 

The  prisoner  rolled  his  eyes  appealingly  around 
that  dreadful  circle. 

“Spare  me!”  he  cried.  “1  know  the  secrets  of  the 
banks.  I can  lead  you  into  the  Prince  of  Cabano’s 
house.  Do  not  kill  me.” 

“ Is  that  all  ? ” asked  the  giant. 

“Yes,”  replied  the  cripple. 

In  an  instant  the  huge  man,  like  some  beast  that 
had  been  long  held  back  from  its  prey,  gave  a leap 
forward,  his  face  revealing  terrible  ferocity ; it  was  a 
tiger  that  glares,  plunges  and  devours.  I saw  some- 
thing shining,  brilliant  and  instantaneous  as  an  elec- 
tric flash ; then  there  was  the  sound  of  a heavy  blow. 
The  spy  sprang  clean  out  of  the  hands  that  were 
holding  him,  high  up  in  the  air;  and  fell,  close  to  me, 
stone  dead.  He  had  been  dead,  indeed,  when  he  made 
that  fearful  leap.  His  heart  was  split  in  twain.  His 
spring  was  not  the  act  of  the  man ; it  was  the  pro- 
test of  the  body  against  the  rush  of  the  departing 
spirit;  it  was  the  clay  striving  to  hold  on  to  tho 
soul. 

The  giant  stooped  and  wiped  his  bloody  knife 
upon  the  clothes  of  the  dead  man.  The  cripple 


176 


CMSAB’S  COLUMN. 


laughed  a crackling,  hideous  laugh.  I hope  God 
will  never  permit  me  to  hear  such  a laugh  again. 
Others  took  it  up — it  echoed  all  around  the  room. 
I could  think  of  nothing  but  the  cachinnations  of 
the  fiends  as  the  black  gates  burst  open  and  new 
hordes  of  souls  are  flung,  startled  and  shrieking,  into 
hell. 

“Thus  die  all  the  enemies  of  the  Brotherhood!” 
cried  the  thin  voice  of  the  cripple. 

And  long  and  loud  they  shouted. 

“Eemove  the  body  through  the  back  door,”  said 
the  giant,  “and  throw  it  into  the  river.” 

“ Search  his  clothes  first,”  said  the  cripple. 

They  did  so,  and  found  the  money  which  the 
Prince  had  ordered  to  be  given  him — it  was  the  price 
of  his  life — and  also  a bundle  of  papers.  The  former 
was  handed  over  to  the  treasurer  of  the  Brother- 
hood ; the  latter  were  taken  possession  of  by  the  vice- 
president. 

Then,  resuming  his  seat,  the  giant  said : 

“Gabriel  Weltstein,  the  Brotherhood  thank  you 
for  the  great  service  you  have  rendered  them.  We 
regret  that  your  scruples  will  not  permit  you  to 
become  one  of  us ; but  we  regard  you  as  a friend  and 
we  honor  you  as  a man;  and  if  at  any  time  the 
Brotherhood  can  serve  you,  be  assured  its  full  powers 
shall  be  put  forth  in  your  behalf.” 

I was  too  much  shocked  by  the  awful  scene  I had 
just  witnessed  to  do  more  than  bow  my  head. 

“There  is  one  thing  more,” he  continued,  “we  shall 
psk  of  you ; and  that  is  that  you  will  repeat  your 
story  once  again  to  another  man,  who  will  soon  be 
brought  here.  We  knew  from  Maximilian  what  you 
were  about  to  tell,  and  we  made  our  arrangements 


C'yESAirS  COLUMN. 


177 


accordingly.  Do  not  start,”  he  said,  “or  look 
alarmed — there  will  be  no  more  executions. ” 

Turning  to  the  men,  he  said:  “Resume  your 
masks.  ” He  covered  his  own  face,  and  all  the  rest 
did  likewise. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

THE  MAMELUKES  OP  THE  AIR. 

The  vice-president  of  the  Brotherhood  leaned 
forward  and  whispered  to  one  of  the  secretaries,  who, 
taking  two  men  with  him, "left  the  room.  A seat  was 
given  me.  There  was  a pause  of  perhaps  ten  min- 
utes. Not  a whisper  broke  the  silence.  Then  there 
came  a rap  at  the  door.  The  other  secretary  went 
to  it.  There  was  whispering  and  consultation ; then 
the  door  opened  and  the  secretary  and  his  two  com- 
panions entered,  leading  a large  man,  blindfolded. 
He  wore  a military  uniform.  They  stopped  in  the 
middle  of  the  room. 

“General  Jacob  Quincy,”  said  the  stern  voice  of 
the  president,  “before  we  remove  the  bandage  from 
* your  eyes  I ask  you  to  repeat,  in  this  presence,  the 
pledge  you  made  to  the  representative  of  the 
Brotherhood,  who  called  upon  you  to-day.” 

The  man  said : 

“I  was  informed  by  your  messenger  that  you 
had  a communication  to  make  to  me  which  involved 
the  welfare,  and  perhaps  the  lives,  of  the  officers  and 
men  commanding  and  manning  the  air-vessels,  or 
war-ships,  called  by  the  people  ‘The  Demons.^  You 
invited  me  here  under  a pledge  of  safe  conduct; 
you  left  your  messenger  with  my  men,  as  hostage  for 
my  return ; and  I promised  never  to  reveal  to  mor- 
tal ear  anytHing  that  I might  see  or  hear,  except  so 
far  as  it  might  be  necessary,  with  your  consent,  to 


Cmsaivs  column. 


in 


do  so  to  warn  nij  coiamaiid  of  those  dangers  which 
you  assure  me  threaten  them.  This  promise  I here 
renew,  and  swear  by  the  Almighty  God  to  keep  it 
forever  inviolate.” 

“Remove  his  bandage,”  said  the  president. 

They  did  so,  and  there  stood  before  me  the  hand- 
some and  intelligent  officer  whom  I had  seen  last 
night  in  the  Prince  of  Cabano’s  council-chamber. 

The  president  nodded  to  the  cripple,  as  if  by  some 
pre-arrangement,  and  said,  “Proceed.” 

“General  Jacob  Quincy,”  said  the  thin,  penetrat- 
ing voice  of  the  vice-president  of  the  Order,  “you 
visited  a certain  house  last  night,  on  a matter  of 
business,  connected  with  your  command.  How 
many  men  knew  of  your  visit  ? ” 

“Three,”  said  the  general,  with  a surprised  look. 
“I  am  to  communicate  the  results  to  a meeting  of 
my  command  to-morrow  night;  but  I thought  it 
better  to  keep  the  matter  pretty  much  to  myself 
until  that  time.” 

“ May  I ask  who  were  the  men  to  whom  you  spoke 
of  the  matter?” 

“I  might  object  to  your  question,”  he  said,  “but 
that  I suppose  something  important  lies  behind  it. 
The  men  v/ere  my  brother,  Col.  Quincy;  my  adjutant- 
general,  Captain  Underwood,  and  my  friend  Major 
Hartwright.” 

“Do  you  think  any  of  these  men  would  tell  your 
story  to  any  one  else?  ” 

“Certainly  not.  I would  venture  my  life  upon 
their  prudence  and  secrecy,  inasmuch  as  I asked  them 
to  keep  the  matter  to  themselves.  But  why  do  you 
ask  such  questions?  ” 

“Because,”  said  the  wily  cripple,  “I  have  a wit- 


180 


CjESAR’S  column. 


ness  here  who  is  about  to  reveal  to  you  everything 
you  said  and  did  in  that  council-chamber  last  night, 
even  to  the  minutest  detail.  If  you  had  told  your 
story  to  many,  or  to  untrustworthy  persons,  there 
might  be  a possibility  that  this  witness  had  gleaned 
the  facts  from  others;  and  that  he  had  not  been 
present,  as  he  claims ; and  therefore  that  you  could 
not  depend  upon  what  he  says  as  to  other  matters 
of  importance.  Do  you  recognize  the  justice  of  my 
reasoning?” 

“Certainly,”  said  the  general.  “If  you  produce 
here  a man  who  can  tell  me  just  where  I was  last 
night,  what  I said,  and  what  was  said  to  me,  I shall 
believe  that  he  was  certainly  present ; for  I well 
know  he  did  not  get  it  from  me  or  my  friends; 
and  I know,  equally  well,  that  none  of  those 
with  whom  I had  communication  would  tell  what 
took  place  to  you  or  to  any  friend  of  yours.” 

“ Be  kind  enough  to  stand  up,”  said  the  cripple  to 
me.  I did  so. 

“Did  you  ever  see  that  man  before?”  he  asked 
the  general. 

The  general  looked  at  me  intently. 

“ Never,”  he  replied. 

“ Have  you  ever  seen  this  man  before?  ” he  asked 
me. 

“Yes,”  I replied. 

“ When  and  where?  ” 

■‘Last  night;  at  the  palace  of  Prince  Cabano — in 
his  council-chamber.” 

“ Proceed,  and  tell  the  whole  story.” 

I did  so.  The  general  listened  closely,  never  re- 
laxing his  scrutiny  of  my  face.  When  I had  finished 
my  account  of  the  interview,  the  cripple  asked  the 


C^SAIt'S  COLUMN. 


181 


general  whether  it  was  a faithful  narration  of  what 
had  taken  place.  He  said  it  was — wonderfully 
accurate  in  every  particular. 

“You  believe  him,  then,  to  be  a truthful  witness,” 
asked  the  cripple,  “and  that  he  was  present  at  your 
interview,  with  the  Council  of  the  Plutocracy?  ” 

“I  do,”  said  General  Quincy. 

“Now  proceed,”  he  said  to  me,  “to  tell  what  took 
place  after  this  gentleman  left  the  room.” 

I did  so.  The  face  of  the  general  darkened  into  a 
scowl  as  I proceeded,  and  he  flushed  with  rage 
when  I had  concluded  my  story. 

“Do  you  desire  to  ask  the  witness  any  ques- 
tions ?”  said  the  cripple. 

“None  at  all,”  he  replied. 

He  stood  for  several  minutes  lost  in  deep  thought. 
I felt  that  the  destiny  of  the  world  hung  tremblingly 
in  the  balance.  At  last  he  spoke,  in  a low  voice. 

“Who  represents  your  organization?”  he  asked. 

“The  Executive  Committee,” replied  the  president. 

“Who  are  they?  ” he  inquired. 

“Myself, — the  vice-president” — pointing  to  the 
cripple — “and  yonder  gentleman” — designating  the 
cowled  and  masked  figure  of  Maximilian,  who  stood 
near  me. 

“Could  I have  a private  conference  with  you?” 
he  asked. 

“Yes,”  replied  the  president,  somewhat  eagerly; 
“come  this  way.” 

All  four  moved  to  a side  door,  which  seemed  to 
lead  into  another  subterranean  chamber; — the  crip- 
ple carried  a torch. 

“Wait  here  for  me,”  said  Maximilian,  as  he 
passed  me. 


182 


CJESAR’S  COLUMN. 


I sat  down.  The  cowled  figures  remained  seated 
around  the  walls.  Not  a sound  broke  the  profound 
silence.  I could  see  that  all  eyes  were  fixed  upon 
the  door  by  which  the  Executive  Committee  had 
left  us,  and  my  own  were  riveted  there  also. 

We  all  felt  the  gravity  of  the  occasion.  Five  min- 
utes— ten  minutes — fifteen  minutes — twenty  minutes 
passed.  The  door  opened.  We  thought  the  confer- 
ence was  over.  No;  it  was  only  the  cripple;  his  face 
was  uncovered  and  flushed  with  excitement.  He 
walked  quickly  to  the  secretary’s  table ; took  up  pen, 
ink  and  paper,  and  returned  to  the  other  cellar, 
closing  the  door  after  him.  There  was  a movement 
among  the  cowled  figures — whispers — excitement; 
they  augured  that  things  were  going  well — the 
agreement  was  to  be  reduced  to  writing!  Five 
minutes  more  passed — then  ten — then  fifteen.  The 
door  opened,  and  they  came  out: — the  gigantic 
Caesar  ahead.  All  the  faces  were  uncovered,  and  I 
thought  there  was  a look  of  suppressed  triumph 
upon  the  countenances  of  the  Executive  Committee. 
The  commander  of  the  Demons  looked  sedate  and 
thoughtful,  like  a man  who  had  taken  a very  grave 
and  serious  step. 

The  president  resumed  the  chair.  He  spoke  to  the 
secretary. 

“You  will  cover  the  eyes  of  General  Quincy,”  he 
said.  “Take  two  men  with  you;  accompany  him  to 
his  carriage,  then  go  with  him  to  his  residence,  and 
bring  back  our  hostage. — General,”  he  said,  “good 
night,”  and  then  added  meaningly,  “Au  revoir!” 

“Au  revoir,”  said  the  general,  as  the  handkerchief 
was  adjusted  over  his  face.  ». 

The  commander  of  the  Demons  and  his  escort 


CJiSAR’S  COLUMN 


183 


withdrew.  The  president  sat  consulting  his  watch, 
and  when  he  was  sure  that  they  were  beyond  hear- 
ing, he  sprang  to  his  feet,  his  eyes  glowing  and  his 
whole  frame  dilated  with  excitement. 

“Brothers,”  he  cried  out,  “we  have  got  the  world 
in  our  hands  at  last.  The  day  is  near  we  have  so 
long  toiled  and  waited  for!  The  Demons  are  with 
us  1 ” 

The  wildest  demonstrations  of  joy  followed — 
cheer  after  cheer  broke  forth ; the  men  embraced  each 
other. 

“The  world’s  slavery  is  at  an  end,”  cried  one. 

“ Death  to  the  tyrants  I ” shouted  another. 

“Down  with  the  Oligarchy  1 ” roared  a third. 

“ Come,”  said  Maximilian,  taking  me  by  the  arm, 
“it  is  time  to  go.” 

He  replaced  the  bandage  over  my  eyes  and  led  me 
out.  For  some  time  after  1 left  the  room,  and  while 
in  the  next  cellar,  I could  hear  the  hoarse  shouts  of 
the  triumphant  conspirators.  Victory  was  now  as- 
sured. My  heart  sank  within  me.  That  monstrous 
chorus  was  chanting  the  requiem  of  a world. 

In  the  carriage  Maximilian  was  trembling  with 
excitement.  One  thought  seemed  to  be  uppermost  in 
his  mind.  “ He  will  be  free  I He  will  be  free  I ” he 
continually  cried.  When  at  last  he  grew  more 
calm,  he  embraced  me,  and  called  me  the  preserver  of 
himself ; and  all  his  family ; and  all  his  friends ; and 
all  his  work, — the  savior  of  his  father!  Then  he 
became  incoherent  again.  He  cursed  the  baseness  of 
mankind.  “It  was  noble,”  he  said,  “to  crush  a 
rotten  world  for  revenge,  or  for  justice’  sake ; but  to 
sell  out  a trust,  for  fifty  millions  of  the  first  plunder, 
was  execrable— it  was  damnable.  It  was  a shame 


184 


aESAR’S  COLUMN. 


to  have  to  use  such  instruments.  But  the  whole 
world  was  corrupt  to  the  very  core;  there  was  not 
enough  consistency  in  it  to  make  it  hang  together. 
Yet  there  was  one  consolation — the  end  was  com- 
ing! Glory  be  to  God!  The  end  was  coming!” 

And  he  clapped  his  hands  and  shouted,  like  a mad- 
man. 

When  he  grew  quieter  I asked  him  what  day  the 
blow  was  to  be  struck.  Not  for  some  time,  he  said. 
In  the  morning  the  vice-president  would  take  an  air- 
ship to  Europe,  with  a cipher  letter  from  General 
Quincy  to  the  commandant  of  the  Demons  in 
England — to  be  delivered  in  case  it  was  thought  safe 
to  do  so.  The  cripple  was  subtle  and  cunning 
beyond  all  men.  He  was  to  arrange  for  the  purchase 
of  the  officers  commanding  the  Demons  all  over 
Europe ; and  he  was  to  hold  a council  of  the  leaders 
of  the  Brotherhood,  and  arrange  for  a simultaneous 
outbreak  on  both  sides  of  the  Atlantic,  so  that  one 
continent  should  not  come  to  the  help  of  the  other. 
If,  however,  this  could  not  be  effected,  he  was  to 
return  home,  and  the  Brotherhood  would  precipitate 
the  revolution  all  over  America  at  the  same  hour, 
and  take  the  chances  of  holding  their  own  against 
the  banker-government  of  Europe. 

That  night  I lay  awake  a long  time,  cogitating ; 
and  the  subject  of  my  thoughts  was — Estella. 

It  had  been  my  intention  to  return  to  Africa 
before  the  great  outbreak  took  place.  I could  not 
remain  and  witness  the  ruin  of  mankind.  But 
neither  could  I leave  Estella  behind  me.  Maximilian 
might  be  killed.  I knew*  his  bold  and  desperate 
nature  ; he  seemed  to  me  to  have  been  driven  almost, 
if  not  quite,  to  insanity,  by  the  wrongs  of  his 


C^SAR^S  COLUMN. 


185 


father.  Revenge  had  become  a mania  with  him. 
If  he  perished  in  the  battle  what  would  become 
of  Estella,  in  a world  torn  to  pieces?  She  had 
neither  father,  nor  mother,  nor  home.  But  she  loved 
me  and  I must  protect  her ! 

On  the  other  hand,  she  was  powerless  and  depend- 
ent on  the  kindness  of  strangers.  Her  speech  in  that 
moment  of  terror  might  have  expressed  more  than 
she  felt.  Should  I presume  upon  it?  Should  I take 
advantage  of  her  distress  to  impose  my  love  upon 
her?  But,  if  the  Brotherhood  failed,  might  not  the 
Prince  recover  her,  and  bear  her  back  to  his  hateful 
palace  and  his  loathsome  embraces?  Dangers  en- 
vironed her  in  every  direction.  I loved  her;  and  if 
she  would  not  accompany  me  to  my  home  as  my 
wife,  she  must  go  as  my  sister.  She  could  not  stay 
where  she  was.  I must  again  save  her. 

I fell  asleep  and  dreamed  that  Estella  and  I 
were  flying  into  space  on  the  back  of  a dragon, 
that  looked  very  much  like  Prince  Gabano. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

THE  workingmen’s  MEETING, 

I HAVE  told  .you,  my  dear  Heinrich,  that  i have 
latterly  attended,  and  even  spoken  at,  a number  of 
meetings  of  the  workingmen  of  this  city.  I have  just 
returned  from  one  of  the  largest  I have  seen.  It  was 
held  in  a great  underground  chamber,  or  series  of 
cellars,  connected  with  each  other,  under  an  ancient 
warehouse.  Before  I retire  to  my  couch  I will  give 
you  some  description  of  the  meeting,  not  only 
because  it  will  enable  you  to  form  some  idea  of  the 
state  of  feeling  among  the  'mechanics  and  workmen, 
but  because  this  one,  unfortunately,  had  a tragical 
ending. 

There  were  guards  stationed  at  the  door  to  give 
warning  of  the  coming  of  the  police.  There  were 
several  thousand  persons  present.  It  was  Saturday 
night.  When  we  arrived  the  hall  was  black  with  peo- 
ple— a gloomy,  silent  assemblage.  There  were  no 
women  present;  no  bright  colors — all  dark  and  sad- 
hued.  The  men  were  nearly  all  workingmen,  many 
of  them  marked  by  the  grime  of  their  toil.  Maximil- 
ian whispered  to  me  that  the  attendance  was  larger 
than  usual,  and  he  thought  it  indicated  that,  by  a 
kind  of  instinct,  the  men  knew  the  great  day  of  de- 
liverance was  near  at  hand. 

The  president  of  a labor  organization  had  taken 
the  chair  before  we  came  in.  As  I walked  up  the  hall 
I was  greeted  with  cheers,  and  invited  to  the  plat- 
form. Maximilian  accompanied  me. 

i86 


CESAR’S  COLUMN. 


187 


A man  in  a blouse  was  speaking.  He  was  discuss- 
ing the  doctrines  of  Karl  Marx  and  the  German  so- 
cialists of  the  last  century.  He  was  attentively 
listened  to,  but  his  remarks  aroused  no  enthusiasm ; 
they  all  seemed  familiar  with  the  subjects  of  his  dis- 
course. 

He  was  followed  by  another  workman,  who  spoke 
upon  the  advantages  of  co-operation  between  the 
employers  and  the  employed.  His  remarks  were 
moderate  and  sensible.  He  was,  however,  answered 
by  another  workman,  who  read  statistics  to  show 
that,  after  a hundred  years  of  trial,  the  co-operative 
system  had  not  extended  beyond  a narrow  circle. 
“There  were  too  many  greedy  employers  and  too 
many  helpless  workmen.  Competition  narrowed  the 
margin  of  profit  and  hardened  the  heart  of  the  mas- 
ter, while  it  increased  the  number  of  the  wretchedly 
poor,  who  must  work  at  any  price  that  would  main- 
tain life.”  [Applause.]  “ The  cure  must  be  more  radi- 
cal than  that.”  [Great  applause.] 

He  was  followed  by  a school  teacher,  who  thought 
that  the  true  remedy  for  the  evils  of  society  was 
universal  education.  If  all  men  were  educated  they 
could  better  defend  their  rights.  Education  meant 
intelligence,  and  intelligence  meant  prosperity.  It 
was  the  ignorant  hordes  from  Europe  who  were 
crowding  out  the  American  workingmen  and  reduc- 
ing them  to  pauperism.”  [Applause.] 

Here  a rough-looking  man,  who,  I inferred,  was 
an  English  miner,  said  he  begged  leave  to  differ  from 
the  gentleman  who  had  last  spoken.  (I  noticed  that 
these  workingmen,  unless  very  angry,  used  in  their 
discussions  the  courteous  forms  of  speech  common  in 
all  parliamentary  bodies.) 


188 


CESAR’S  COLUMN. 


* “A  man  who  knew  howto  read  and  write,”  he  con- 
tinued, “did  not  command  any  better  wages  for  the 
work  of  his  hands  than  the  man  who  could  not.” 
[Applause.]  “His  increased  knowledge  tended  to 
make  him  more  miserable.”  [Applause.]  “Educa- 
tion was  so  universal  that  the  educated  man,  with- 
out a trade,  had  to  take  the  most  inadequate  pit- 
tance of  compensation,  and  was  not  so  well  off,  many 
times,  as  the  mechanic.”  [Applause.]  “The  prisons 
and  alms-houses  were  full  of  educated  men;  and  three- 
fourths  of  the  criminal  class  could  read  and  write. 
Neither  was  the  gentleman  right  when  he  spoke  of 
the  European  immigrants  as  ‘ignorant  hordes.’ 
The  truth  was,  the  proportion  of  the  illiterate  was 
much  less  in  some  European  despotisms  than  it  was 
in  the  American  Republic.”  [Applause  from  the 
foreigners  present.]  “Neither  did  it  follow  that  be- 
cause a man  was  educated  he  was  intelligent.  There 
was  a vast  population  of  the  middle  class,  who  had 
received  good  educations,  but  who  did  not  have  any 
opinion  upon  any  subject,  except  as  they  derived  it 
from  their  daily  newspapers.”  [Applause.]  “The 
rich  men  owned  the  newspapers  and  the  newspapers 
owned  their  readers;  so  that,  practically,  the  rich 
men  cast  all  those  hundreds  of  thousands  of  votes. 
If  these  men  had  not  been  able  to  read  and  write 
they  would  have  talked  with  one  another  upon  public 
affairs,  and  have  formed  some  correct  ideas;  their 
education  simply  facilitated  their  mental  subjugation ; 
they  were  chained  to  the  chariots  of  the  Oligarchy ; 
and  they  would  never  know  the  truth  until  they 
woke  up  some  bright  morning  and  found  it  was  the 
Day  of  Judgment.”  [Sensation  and  great  applause.] 
Here  I interposed : 


CMSAIVS  COLUMN. 


181) 


“Uuivei’sal  education  is  right;  it  is  necessary,”  1 
said ; “ but  it  is  not  all-sufficient.  Education  will  not 
stop  corruption  or  niisgovernment.  No  man  is  fit  to 
be  free  unless  he  possesses  a reasonable  share  of  edu- 
cation; but  every  man  who  possesses  that  reason- 
able share  of  education  is  not  fit  to  be  free.  A man 
maj'  be  able  to  read  and  write  and  yet  be  a fool  or  a 
knave.”  [Laughter  and  applause.]  “What  is  needed 
is  a society  which  shall  bring  to  Labor  the  aid  of  the 
same  keenness,  penetration,  foresight,  and  even  cun- 
ning, by  which  wealth  has  won  its  triumphs.  Intel- 
lect should  have  its  rewards,  but  it  should  not  have 
everything.  But  this  defense  of  labor  could  onlj^ 
spring  from  the  inspiration  of  God,  for  the  natural 
instinct  of  m an,  in  these  latter  days,  seems  to  be  to 
prey  on  his  fellow.  We  are  sharks  that  devour  the 
wounded  of  our  own  kind.” 

I paused,  and  in  the  midst  of  the  hall  a thin  gen- 
tleman, dressed  in  black,  with  his  coat  buttoned  to 
his  throat,  and  all  the  appearance  of  a clergyman, 
arose  and  asked,  whether  a stranger  would  be  permit- 
ted to  say  a few  words.  He  was  received  in  sullen 
silence,  for  the  clergy  Ji<^t  pnpnla.r  with  the  nrol- 
etariat.  His  manner,  however,  was  quiet  and  un- 
assuming, and  he  appeared  like  an  honest  man. 

The  chairman  said  he  had  no  doubt  the  audience 
would  be  glad  to  hear  his  views,  and  invited  him  to 
the  platform. 

He  said,  in  a weak,  thin  voice: 

“I  have  listened,  brethren,  with  a great  deal  of 
interest  and  pleasure  to  the  remarks  that  have  been 
made  by  the  different  speakers.  There  is  no  doubt 
the  world  has  fallen  into  evil  conditions;  and  it  is 
very  right  that  you  should  thus  assemble  and  con- 


cJesaivs  column. 


190 

sider  the  causes  and  the  remedy.  And,  with  your 
kind  permission,  I will  give  you  my  views  on  the 
subject. 

“ Brethren,  your  calamities  are  due,  in  my  opinion, 
to  the  loss  of  religion  in  the  world  and  the  lack  of 
virtue  among  individuals.  What  is  needed  for  the 
reformation  of  mankind  is  a new  interest  in  the 
church — a revival  of  faith.  If  every  man  will  purify 
his  ow'n  heart,  all  hearts  will  then  be  pure ; and  when 
the  hearts  of  all  are  pure,  and  filled  with  the  divine 
sentiment  of  justice  and  brotherhood,  no  man  will  be 
disposed  to  treat  his  neighbor  unjustly.  But,  while 
this  is  true,  you  must  remember  that,  after  all,  this 
world  is  only  a place  of  temporary  trial,  to  prepare 
us  for  another  and  a better  world.  This  existence  con- 
sists of  a few  troubled  and  painful  years,  at  best,  but 
there  you  will  enjoy  eternal  happiness  in  the  com- 
pany of  the  angels  of  God.  We  have  the  assurance 
of  the  Holy  Scriptures  that  riches  and  prosperity 
here  are  impediments  to  happiness  hereafter.  The 
beggar  Lazarus  is  shown  to  us  in  the  midst  of  ever- 
lasting bliss,  while  the  rich  man  Dives,  who  had 
supported  him  for  years,  by  the  crumbs  from  his 
table,  and  was  clothed  in  purple  and  fine  linen,  is 
burning  in  an  eternal  hell.  Eemember  that  it  is 
‘less  difficult  for  a camel  to  pass  through  the  eye 
of  a needle  than  for  a rich  man  to  enter  the  king- 
dom of  heaven;’  and  so,  my  friends,  you  may  justly 
rejoice  in  your  poverty  and  your  afflictions,  for 
‘those  whom  the  Lord  loveth  he  chasteneth;’  and 
the  more  wretched  your  careers  may  be,  here  on 
earth,  the  more  assured  you  are  of  the  delights  of  an 
everlasting  heaven.  And  do  not  listen,  my  brethren, 
to  the  men  who  tell  you  that  you  must  hate  govern- 


CJESAR’S  column. 


loi 


Ineiit  and  law.  ‘The  powers  that  be  are  ordained  of 
God,’  saith  the  Scripture;  and  by  patient  resigna- 
tion to  the  evils  of  this  world  you  will  lay  up  treas- 
ures for  yourselves  in  heaven,  where  the  moth  and 
rust  cannot  consume,  and  where  thieves  do  not 
break  in  and  steal.  They  tell  you  that  you  should 
improve  your  condition.  But  suppose  you  possessed 
all  the  pleasures  w'hich  this  transitory  world  could 
give  you,  of  what  avail  would  it  be  if  your  earthly 
happiness  made  you  lose  the  eternal  joys  of  heaven? 
‘ What  will  it  profit  a man  if  he  gain  the  whole  world 
and  lose  his  own  soul?’  Nothing,  my  brethren, 

nothing.  Be  patient,  therefore ” 

As  the  reverend  gentleman  had  proceeded  the 
murmurs  and  objections  of  the  audience  kept  in- 
creasing, until  at  last  it  broke  forth  in  a storm  of 
howls  and  execrations  which  completely  drowned  his 
voice.  The  whole  audience — I could  see  their  faces 
from  where  I sat  on  the  platform — were  infuriated. 
Arms  were  waving  in  the  air,  and  the  scene  was  like 
Bedlam.  I requested  the  clergyman  to  sit  down, 
and,  as  soon  as  he  did  so,  the  storm  began  to  sub- 
side. A man  rose  in  the  midst  of  the  audience  and 
mounted  a bench.  Loud  cries  and  applause  greeted 
him.  I could  distinguish  the  name  on  ahundred  lips, 
“Kelker!  Kelker!”  As  I ascertained  afterwards, 
he  was  a professor,  of  German  descent,  a man  of  wide 
learning,  who  had  lost  his  position  in  the  university, 
and  in  society  as  well,  by  his  defense  of  the  rights  of 
the  people.  He  now  earned  a meager  living  at  shoe- 
making. He  was  a tall,  spare  man,  with  gold  eye- 
glasses (sole  relic  of  his  past  station),  poorly  clad;  and 
he  had  the  wild  look  of  a man  who  had  been  hunted 
all  his  life.  He  spoke  with  great  vehemence,  and  in  a 


CMSAR'S  column. 


192 

penetrating  voice,  that  could  be  heard  all  over  that 
vast  assemblage,  which,  as  soon  as  he  opened  his 
mouth,  became  as  still  as  death. 

“Friends  and  brothers,”  he  said;  “ friends  by  the 
ties  of  common  wrongs,  brothers  in  misery,  I regret 
that  you  did  not  permit  the  reverend  gentleman  to 
proceed.  Ours  is  a liberality  that  hears  all  sides; 
and,  for  one,  I should  have  been  glad  to  hear  what 
this  advocate  of  the  ancient  creeds  had  to  say  for 
them.  But  since  he  has  taken  his  seat  I shall  reply 
to  him. 

“He  tells  us  that  his  religion  is  the  one  only 
thing  which  will  save  us;  and  that  it  is  better  for 
us  to  be  miserable  here  that  we  may  be  happy  here- 
after. If  that  is  so,  heaven  must  be  crowded  now- 
a-days,  for  the  misery  of  the  earth  is  unlimited  and 
unspeakable;  and  it  is  rapidly  increasing.”  [Laugh- 
ter and  applause.]  “But  religion  has  had  control 
of  the  world  for  nearly  two  thousand  years,  and 
this  is  what  it  has  brought  us  to.  It  has  been,  in 
all  ages,  the  moral  police-force  of  tyrants.”  [Great 
applause.]  “It  has  chloroformed  poverty  with  prom- 
ises of  heaven,  while  the  robbers  have  plundered  the 
world.”  [Continued  applause.]  “It  has  kept  the  peo- 
ple in  submission,  and  has  sent  uncountable  mill- 
ions through  wretched  lives  to  shameful  graves.”' 
[Great  applause.]  “With  a lot  of  myths  and  super- 
stitions, derived  from  a dark  and  barbarous  past,  it 
has  prevented  civilization  from  protecting  man- 
kind ; and,  Nero-like,  has  fiddled  away  upon  its  ridicu- 
lous dogmas  while  the  world  was  burning.”  [Great 
cheers.] 

“ When  have  your  churches  helped  man  to 
improve  his  condition?  They  are  gorgeous  palaces, 


CESAR’S  COLUMN. 


193 


where  once  a week  the  women  assemble  to  display 
their  millinery  and  the  men  to  maintain  their 
business  prestige.”  [Laughter  and  applause.]  “What 
great  reform  have  they  not  opposed?  What  new 
discoveries  in  science  have  they  not  resisted?”  [Ap- 
plause.] “Man  has  only  become  great  when  he  has 
escaped  out  of  their  clutches.”  [Cheers.]  “ They  have 
preached  heaven  and  helped  to  turn  earth  into  a hell.” 
[Great  cheers.]  “They  stood  by,  without  a murmur, 
and  beheld  mankind  brought  down  to  this  awful 
condition ; and  now,  in  the  midst  of  our  unbearable 
calamities,  they  tell  us  it  is  well  for  us  to  starve; 
that  starvation  is  the  especial  gate  of  heaven;  and 
that  Dives  deserved  hell  because  he  had  plenty  to  eat 
while  on  earth.”  [Great  cheering.]  “And  why  do 
they  do  this  ? Because,  if  they  can  get  possession  of 
our  consciences  and  persuade  us  to  starve  to  death 
patiently,  and  not  resist,  they  will  make  it  so  much 
the  easier  for  the  oppressors  to  govern  ns;  and  the 
rich,  in  return,  will  maintain  the  churches.”  [Sensa- 
tion.] “ They  are  throttling  us  in  the  name  of  God ! ” 
[Tremendous  applause.]  “ Our  sons  march  in  endless 
procession  to  the  prison  and  the  scaffold ; our 
daughters  take  their  places  in  the  long  line  of  the 
bedizened  cortege  of  the  brothel;  and  every  fiber  of 
our  poor  frames  and  brains  shrieks  out  its  protest 
against  insufficient  nourishment;  and  this  man 
comes  to  us  and  talks  about  his  Old-World,  worn-out 
creeds,  which  began  in  the  brains  of  half-naked  bar- 
barians, and  are  a jumble  of  the  myths  of  a hun- 
dred  ” 

Here  the  speaker  grew  wild  and  hoarse  with 
passion,  and  the  audience,  who  had  been  growing 
more  and  more  excited  and  turbulent  as  he  pro- 
13 


194 


CESAR’S  COLUMN. 


ceeded,  burst  into  a tremendous  uproar  that 
drowned  every  other  sound.  A crowd  of  the  more 
desperate — dark-faced,  savage-looking  workingmen 
—made  a rush  for  the  platform  to  seize  the  clergy- 
man; and  they  would  soon  have  had  possession  of 
him.  But  in  this  extremity  1 sprang  to  the  front  of 
the  platform,  between  him  and  the  oncoming  mob, 
and  by  my  mere  presence,  and  the  respect  they  have 
for  me  as  their  friend,  I stilled  the  tempest  and 
restored  order. 

“My  dear  friends ! ” I said,  “ be  patient ! Are  you 
the  men  who  boast  of  your  toleration?  You  meet 
to  discuss  your  sufferings  and  their  remedy;  and 
when  one  tells  you  how  he  would  cure  you,  you  rise 
up  to  slay  him.  Be  just.  This  poor  man  may  be 
mistaken — the  body  of  which  he  is  a member  may  be 
mistaken — as  to  the  best  way  to  serve  and  save 
mankind;  but  that  his  purpose  is  good,  and  that  he 
loves  you,  "svho  can  doubt  ? Look  at  him ! Observe 
his  poor  garments ; his  emaciated  figure.  What 
joys  of  life  does  he  possess  ? He  has  given  up  every- 
thing to  help  you.  Into  your  darkest  alleys — into 
your  underground  dens — where  pestilence  and 
starvation  contend  for  their  victims,  he  goes  at  high 
noon  and  in  the  depths  of  the  blackest  night,  and  he 
brings  to  the  parting  soul  consolation  and  hope. 
And  why  not  ? Who  can  doubt  that  there  is  another 
life?  Who  that  knows  the  immortality  of  matter, 
its  absolute  indestructibility,  can  believe  that  mind, 
intelligence,  soul,— which  must  be,  at  the  lowest  esti- 
mate— if  they  are  not  something  higher — a form 
of  matter,— are  to  perish  into  nothingness?  If  it  be 
true,  as  we  know  it  is,  that  the  substance  of  the  poor 
flesh  that  robes  your  spirits— nay,  of  the  very  gar- 


CESAR’S  COLUMN. 


195 


ments  you  wear — shall  exist,  uiidiminished  by  the 
friction  of  eternity,  a;ons  after  our  planet  is  blotted 
out  of  space  and  our  sun  forgotten,  can  you  believe 
that  this  intelligence,  whereby  1 command  your  souls 
into  thought,  and  communicate  with  the  unsounded 
depths  of  your  natures,  can  be  clipped  otf  into  anni- 
hilation? Nay,  out  of  the  very  bounty  and  largess  of 
God  I speak  unto  you ; and  that  in  me  which  speaks, 
and  that  in  you  which  listens,  are  alike  part  and 
parcel  of  the  eternal  Maker  of  all  things,  without 
whom  is  nothing  made.”  [Applause.] 

“And  so,  my  friends,  every  good  man  who  loves 
you,  and  would  improve  your  condition,  in  time  or  in 
eternity,  is  your  friend,  and  to  be  venerated  by  you.” 
[Applause.]  “And  while  we  may  regret  the  errors 
of  religion,  in  the  past,  or  in  the  present,  let  us  not 
forget  its  virtues.  Human  in  its  mechanism,  it 
has  been  human  in  its  infirmities.  In  the  doctrine  of 
the  brotherhood  of  man  and  the  fatherhood  of  God, 
which  are  the  essential  principles  of  Christianity, 
lies  the  redemption  of  mankind.  But  some  of 
the  churchmen  have  misconceived  Christ,  or  per- 
verted him  to  their  own  base  purposes.  He  who 
drove  the  money-changers  out  of  the  temple,  and 
denounced  the  aristocrats  of  his  country  as  whited 
sepulchres,  and  preached  a communism  of  goods, 
would  not  view  to-day  with  patience  or  equanim- 
ity the  dreadful  sufferings  of  mankind.  AVe  have 
inherited  Christianity  without  Christ;  w'e  have  the 
painted  shell  of  a religion,  and  that  which  rattles 
around  within  it  is  not  the  burning  soul  of  the  Great 
Iconoclast,  but  a cold  and  shriveled  and  mean- 
ingless tradition.  Oh!  for  the  quick-pulsing,  warm- 
beating, mighty  human  heart  of  the  man  of  Gali- 


196 


CESAR’S  COLUMN. 


lee!  Oh!  for  his  uplifted  hand,  armed  with  a whip 
of  scorpions,  to  depopulate  the  temples  of  the  world, 
and  lash  his  recreant  preachers  into  devotion  to 
the  cause  of  his  poor  afflicted  children ! ” [Great 
applause.] 

“There  is  no  power  in  the  world  too  great  or  too 
sacred  to  be  used  by  Goodness  for  the  suppression  of 
Evil.  Religion — true  religion — not  forms  or  cere- 
monies, but  inspirecZ  purpose — should  take  possession 
of  the  governments  of  the  world  and  enforce  justice! 
The  purified  individual  soul  we  may  not  underesti- 
mate. These  are  the  swept  and  garnished  habitations 
in  which  the  angels  dwell,  and  look  with  unpolluted 
eyes  upon  the  world.  But  this  is  not  all.  To  make 
a few  virtuous  where  the  many  are  vicious  is  to  place 
goodness  at  a disadvantage.  To  teach  the  people 
patience  and  innocence  in  the  midst  of  craft  and 
cruelty,  is  to  furnish  the  red-mouthed  wolves  with 
woolly,  bleating  lambs.  Hence  the  grip  of  the 
churches  on  humanity  has  been  steadily  lessening 
during  the  past  two  hundred  years.  Men  perma- 
nently love  only  those  things  that  are  beneficial 
to  them.  The  churches  must  come  to  the  rescue  of 
the  people  or  retire  from  the  field.  A babe  in  the 
claws  of  a tiger  is  not  more  helpless  than  a small  vir- 
tuous minority  in  the  midst  of  a cruel  and  bloody 
world.  Virtue  we  want,  but  virtue  growing  out  of 
the  bosom  of  universal  justice.  While  you  labor  to 
save  one  soul,  poverty  crushes  a million  into  sin. 
You  are  plucking  brands  from  a constantly  increas- 
ing confiagration.  The  fiames  continue  to  advance 
and  devour  what  you  have  saved.  The  religion 
of  the  Avorld  must  be  built  on  universal  prosperity, 
and  this  is  only  possible  on  a foundation  of  uni- 


CjESAIVS  column. 


197 


versal  justice.  If  the  web  of  the  cloth  is  knotted 
in  one  place  it  is  because  the  threads  have,  in  an 
unmeaning  tangle,  been  withdrawn  from  another 
part.  Human  misery  is  the  correlative  and  equiv- 
alent of  injustice  somewhere  else  in  society. 

“What  the  world  needs  is  a new  organization  — a 
great  world-wide  Brotherhood  of  Justice.  It  should 
be  composed  of  all  men  who  desire  to  lift  up  the 
oppressed  and  save  civilization  and  society.  It 
should  work  through  governmental  instrumentali- 
ties. Its  altars  should  be  the  schools  and  the 
ballot-boxes.  It  should  combine  the  good,  who 
are  not  yet,  I hope,  in  a minority,  against  the 
wicked.  It  should  take  one  wrong  after  another, 
concentrate  the  battle  of  the  world  upon  them,  and 
wipe  them  out  of  existence.  It  should  be  sworn  to  a 
perpetual  crusade  against  every  evil.  It  is  not 
enough  to  heal  the  wounds  caused  by  the  talons  of 
the  wild  beasts  of  injustice : it  should  pursue  them  to 
their  bone-huddled  dens  and  slay  them.”  [Great 
applause.]  “It  should  labor  not  alone  to  relieve 
starvation,  but  to  make  starvation  impossible;  — to 
kill  it  in  its  causes. 

“With  the  widest  toleration  toward  those  who 
address  themselves  to  the  future  life,  even  to  the  neg- 
lect of  this,  the  sole  dogma  of  our  society  should  be 
Justice.  If  there  is  an  elysium  in  the  next  world,  and 
not  a continuation  of  the  troubled  existence  through 
which  we  are  now  passing,  we  will  be  all  the  better 
fitted  to  enjoy  it  if  we  have  helped  to  make  this 
world  a heaven.  And  he  who  has  labored  to  make 
earth  a hell  should  enjoy  his  workmanship  in  an- 
other and  more  dreadful  world,  forever  and  forever. 

“And  oh,  ye  churches!  Will  ye  not  come  up  to 


198 


CESAR’S  COLUMN. 


the  help  of  the  people  against  the  mighty?  Will  ye 
not  help  us  break  the  jaws  of  the  spoiler  and  drag 
the  prey  from  between  his  teeth?  Think  what  you 
could  do  if  all  your  congregations  were  massed  to- 
gether to  crush  the  horrid  wrongs  that  abound  in 
society!  To  save  the  world  you  must  fight  corrup- 
tion and  take  possession  of  government.  Turn 
your  thoughts  away  from  Moses  and  his  ragged 
cohorts,  and  all  the  petty  beliefs  and  blunders  of  the 
ancient  world.  Here  is  a world  greater  than  Moses 
ever  dreamed  of.  Here  is  a population  infinitely 
vaster  in  numbers,  more  enlightened,  more  capable 
of  exquisite  enjoyment,  and  exquisite  sufiering,  than 
all  the  children  of  Israel  and  all  the  subjects  of  im- 
perial Home  combined.  Come  out  of  the  past  into 
the  present.  God  is  as  much  God  to-day  as  he  was 
in  the  time  of  the  Pharaohs.  If  God  loved  man 
then  he  loves  him  now.  Surely  the  cultured  denizen 
of  this  enlightened  century,  in  the  midst  of  all  the 
splendors  of  his  transcendent  civilization,  is  as 
worthy  of  the  tender  regard  of  his  Creator  as  the 
half-fed  and  ignorant  savage  of  the  Arabian  desert 
five  thousand  years  ago.  God  lives  yet,  and  he  lives 
for  us.” 

Here  I paused.  Although  the  vast  audience  had 
listened  patiently  to  my  address,  and  had,  occasion- 
ally, even  applauded  some  of  its  utterances,  yet  it 
was  evident  that  what  I said  did  not  touch  their 
hearts.  In  fact,  a stout  man,  with  a dark,  stubbly 
beard,  dressed  like  a workingman,  rose  on  one  of  the 
side  benches  and  said : 

“Fellow-toilers,  we  have  listened  with  gi’eat  re- 
spect to  what  our  friend  Gabriel  Weltstein  has  said 
to  us,  for  we  know  he  would  help  us  if  he  could— 


CESAR’S  COLUMN. 


199 


that  his  heart  is  with  us.  And  much  that  he  has  said 
is  true.  But  the  time  has  gone  by  to  start  such  a 
society  as  he  speaks  of.  Why,  if  we  formed  it,  the 
distresses  of  the  people  are  so  great  that  our  very 
members  would  sell  us  out  on  election  day.”  [Ap- 
plause.] “ The  community  is  rotten  to  the  core ; and 
so  rotten  that  it  is  not  conscious  that  it  is  rotten.” 
[Applause.]  “There  is  no  sound  place  to  build  on. 
There  is  no  remedy  but  the  utter  destruction  of  the 
existing  order  of  things.”  [Great  applause.]  “It 
cannot  be  worse  for  us  than  it  is;  it  may  be  better.” 
[Cheers.] 

“ But,”  I cried  out,  “do  you  want  to  destroy  civil- 
ization?” 

“Civilization,”  he  replied  solemnly;  “what  in- 
terest have  we  in  the  preservation  of  civilization? 
Look  around  and  behold  its  fruits ! Here  are  prob- 
ably ten  thousand  industrious,  sober,  intelligent 
workingmen ; I doubt  if  there  is  one  in  all  this  multi- 
tude that  can  honestly  say  he  has  had,  during  the 
past  week,  enough  to  eat.”  [Cries  of  “That’s  so.”]  “ I 
doubt  if  there  is  one  here  who  believes  that  the  pres- 
ent condition  of  things  can  give  him,  or  his  children, 
anything  better  for  the  future.”  [Applause.]  “Our 
masters  have  educated  us  to  understand  that  we 
have  no  interest  in  civilization  or  society.  We  are 
its  victims,  not  its  members.  They  depend  on  re- 
pression, on  force  alone ; on  cruelty,  starvation,  to 
hold  us  down  until  we  work  our  lives  away.  Our 
lives  are  all  we  have; — it  may  be  all  we'will  ever 
have ! They  are  as  dear  to  us  as  existence  is  to  the 
millionaire. 

“What  is  civilization  worth  which  means  happi- 
ness for  a few  thousand  men  and  inexpressible  misery 


200 


CJSSAWS  COLUMN. 


for  hundreds  of  millions?  No,  down  with  it!”  [Im- 
mense cheering.  Men  rising  and  waving  their  hats.] 
“If  they  have  set  love  and  justice  adrift  and  depend 
only  on  force,  why  should  we  not  have  recourse  to 
force  also?”  [Cheers  and  applause,  mingled  with 
cries  of  “Take  care!”  “Look  out!”  “Spies!”  etc.] 
“Yes,”  continued  the  speaker,  “I  mean,  of  course, 
the  force  of  argument  and  reason.”  [Great  laughter 
and  applause.]  “Of  course  none  of  us  would  advo- 
cate a violation  of  the  law — that  blessed  law 
which  it  has  cost  our  masters  so  much  hard-earned 
money  to  purchase;”  [renewed  laughter  and  ap- 
plause,] “and  which  restrains  us  and  not  them; 
for  under  it  no  injustice  is  forbidden  to  them,  and  no 
justice  is  permitted  to  us.  Our  labor  creates  every- 
thing; we  possess  nothing.  Yes,  we  have  the  scant 
supply  of  food  necessary  to  enable  us  to  create 
more.”  [Applause.]  “ We  have  ceased  to  be  men — 
we  are  machines.  Did  God  die  for  a machine?  Cer- 
tainly not. 

“We  are  crushed  under  the  world  which  we  main- 
tain, and  our  groans  are  drowned  in  the  sounds  of 
music  and  laughter.”  [Great  applause.]  “We  have 
a hell  that  is  more  desperate  and  devilish  than  any 
dreamed  of  by  the  parsons — for  w^e  have  to  suffer  to 
maintain  the  pleasures  of  heaven,  while  we  have  no 
share  in  what  we  ourselves  create.”  [Laughter  and 
applause.]  “Do  you  suppose  that  if  heaven  were 
blown  to  pieces  hell  would  be  any  worse  off?  At 
least,  the  work  would  stop.”  [Great  applause, 
long-continued,  with  cries  of  “ That’s  so ! ”] 

Here  a great  uproar  broke  out  near  the  end  of  the 
hall.  A man  had  been  caught  secretly  taking  notes 
of  the  speaker’s  remarks.  He  was  evidently  a dcdx'ct- 


CESAR’S  COLUMN. 


201 


ive.  On  the  instant  a hundred  men  sprang  upon  him, 
and  he  was  beaten  and  trampled  under  foot,  until 
not  only  life,  but  all  semblance  of  humanity,  had 
been  crushed  out  of  him ; and  the  wretched  remains 
were  dragged  out  and  thrown  upon  the  pavement. 
It  is  impossible  to  describe  the  uproar  and  confusion 
which  ensued.  In  the  midst  of  it  a large  platoon  of 
police,  several  hundred  strong,  with  their  belts  strung 
with  magazine  pistols,  and  great  clubs  in  their 
hands,  broke  into  the  room,  and  began  to  deal  blows 
and  make  arrests  right  and  left,  while  the  crowd  fled 
through  all  the  doors.  Maximilian  seized  me  and  the 
poor  clergyman,  who  had  been  sitting  in  a dazed  and 
distraught  state  for  some  time,  and  dragged  us  both 
up  a back  stairway  and  through  a rear  exit  into  the 
street.  There  we  took  a carriage,  and,  after  we  had 
left  the  bewildered  clergyman  at  his  residence,  Max- 
imilian said  to  me  as  we  rode  home : 

“You  see,  my  dear  Gabriel,  I was  right  and  you 
were  wrong.  That  workman  told  the  truth.  You 
have  arrived  on  the  scene  too  late.  A hundred  years 
ago  you  might  have  formed  your  Brotherhood  of 
Justice  and  saved  society.  Now  there  is  but  one  cure 
— the  Brotherhood  of  Destruction.” 

“Oh,  my  dear  friend,”  I replied,  “do  not  say 
so.  Destruction!  What  is  it?  The  wiping  out  of 
the  slow  accumulations  made  by  man’s  intelligence 
during  thousands  of  years.  A world  cataclysm.  A 
day  of  judgment.  A day  of  Are  and  ashes.  A world 
burned  and  swept  bare  of  life.  All  the  flowers  of  art; 
the  beautiful,  gossamer-like  works  of  glorious  litera- 
ture; the  sweet  and  lovely  creations  of  the  souls  of  men 
long  since  perished,  and  now  the  inestimable  heritage 
of  humanity;  all,  all  crushed,  torn,  leveled  in  tlae 


202 


C^SAB’S  COLUMN. 


dust.  And  all  that  is  savage,  brutal,  cruel,  demoniac 
in  man’s  nature  let  loose  to  ravage  the  face  of  the 
world.  Oh ! horrible  — most  horrible ! The  mere 
thought  works  in  me  like  a convulsion ; what  must 
the  inexpressible  reality  be?  To  these  poor,  suffer- 
ing, hopeless,  degraded  toilers ; these  children  of  op- 
pression and  the  dust;  these  chained  slaves,  anything 
that  would  break  open  the  gates  of  their  prison-house 
would  be  welcome,  even  though  it  were  an  earth- 
quake that  destroyed  the  planet.  But  you  and  I,  my 
dear  friend,  are  educated  to  higher  thoughts.  We 
know  the  value  of  the  precious  boon  of  civilization. 
We  know  how  bare  and  barren,  and  wretched  and 
torpid,  and  utterly  debased  is  soulless  barbarism. 
I see  enough  to  convince  me  that  the  ramifications  of 
your  society  are  like  a net-work  of  wires,  all  over  the 
earth,  penetrating  everywhere,  and  at  every  point 
touching  the  most  deadly  explosives  of  human  pas- 
sions and  hates ; and  that  it  needs  but  the  pressure 
of  your  finger  upon  the  pedal  to  blow  up  the  world. 
The  folly  of  centuries  has  culminated  in  the  most 
terrible  organization  that  ever  grew  out  of  the 
wretchedness  of  mankind.  But  oh,  my  friend— you 
have  a broad  mind  and  a benevolent  soul — tell  me, 
is  there  no  remedy?  Cannot  the  day  of  wrath  be 
averted?” 

/ 

The  tears  fiowed  down  my  face  as  I spoke,  and 
Maximilian  placed  his  hand  gently  upon  my  arm, 
and  said  in  the  kindliest  manner : 

“My  dear  Gabriel,  I have  thought  such  thoughts 
as  these  many  times ; not  with  the  fervor  and  vehe- 
mence of  your  more  imaginative  nature,  but  because 
I shrank,  at  first,  from  what  you  call  ‘a  world- 
cataclysm.’  But  facts  are  stronger  than  the  opin- 


C^SAE’S  COLUMN. 


203 


ions  of  man.  There  is  in  every  conflagration  a time 
when  a few  pails  of  water  would  extinguish  it ; then 
there  comes  a time  when  the  whole  flre-department, 
with  tons  of  water,  can  alone  save  what  is  left  of  the 
property;  but  sometimes  a point  is  reached  where 
even  the  boldest  firemen  are  forced  to  recoil  and  give 
up  the  building  to  the  devouring  element.  Two  hun- 
dred years  ago  a little  wise  statesmanship  might 
have  averted  the  evils  from  which  the  world  now 
suffers.  One  hundred  years  ago  a gigantic  effort,  of 
all  the  good  men  of  the  world,  might  have  saved 
society.  Now  the  fire  pours  through  every  door,  and 
window  and  crevice ; the  roof  crackles ; the  walls  tot- 
ter; the  heat  of  hell  rages  within  the  edifice;  it  is 
doomed ; there  is  no  power  on  earth  that  can  save  it; 
it  must  go  down  into  ashes.  What  can  you  or  I do? 
What  will  it  avail  the  world  if  we  rush  into  the 
flames  and  perish?  No;  we  witness  the  working-out  of 
great  causes  which  we  did  not  create.  When  man  per- 
mits the  establishment  of  self-generating  evil  he  must 
submit  to  the  effect.  Our  ancestors  were  blind,  indif- 
ferent, heartless.  We  live  in  the  culmination  of  their 
misdeeds.  They  have  crawled  into  their  graves  and 
drawn  the  earth  over  them,  and  the  flowers  bloom  on 
their  last  resting-places,  and  we  are  the  inheritors  of 
the  hurricane  which  they  invoked.  Moreover,”  he 
continued,  “how  can  reformation  come?  You  have 
seen  that  audience  to-night.  Do  you  think  they  are 
capable  of  the  delicate  task  of  readjusting  the  disar- 
ranged conditions  of  the  world  ? That  workman  was 
right.  In  the  aggregate  they  are  honest — most 
honest  and  honorable;  but  is  there  one  of  them 
whose  cramped  mind  and  starved  stomach  could 
resist  the  temptation  of  a ten-dollar  bill?  Think 


204 


CESAR’S  COLUMN. 


what  a ten-dollar  bill  is  to  them ! It  represents  all 
they  crave:  food,  clothes,  comfort,  joy.  It  opens 
the  gate  of  heaven  to  them;  it  is  paradise,  for  a 
few  hours  at  least.  Why,  they  would  mortgage  their 
souls,  they  would  trade  their  Maker,  for  a hundred 
dollars!  The  crime  is  not  theirs,  but  the  shallow 
creatures  who  once  ruled  the  world,  and  permitted 
them  to  be  brought  to  this  state.  And  where  else 
can  you  turn?  Is  it  to  the  newspapers ? They  are  a 
thousand  times  more  dishonest  than  the  working- 
men. Is  it  to  the  halls  of  legislation?  There  cor- 
ruption riots  and  rots  until  the  stench  fills  the  earth. 
The  only  ones  who  could  reform  the  world  are  the 
rich  and  powerful:  but  they  see  nothing  to  reform. 
Life  is  all  sunshine  for  them;  civilization  is  a suc- 
cess for  them ; they  need  no  better  heaven  than  they 
enjoy.  They  have  so  long  held  mankind  in  sub- 
jection that  they  laugh  at  the  idea  of  the  great, 
dark,  writhing  masses,  rising  up  to  overthrow  them. 
Government  is,  to  them,  an  exquisitely  adjusted  piece 
of  mechanism  whose  object  is  to  keep  the  few  happy 
and  the  many  miserable.” 

“But,”  saidl,  “if  an  appeal  were  made  to  them; 
if  they  were  assured  of  the  dangers  that  really  threat- 
ened them ; if  their  better  and  kindlier  natures  were 
appealed  to,  do  you  not  think  they  might  undertake 
the  task  of  remedying  the  evils  endured  by  the  multn 
tude?  They  cannot  all  be  as  abandoned  and  ut- 
terly vicious  as  Prince  Cabano  and  his  Council.” 

“ No,” he  replied ; “have  you  not  already  made  the 
test  ? The  best  of  them  would  probably  hang  you 
for  your  pains.  Do  you  think  they  would  be  willing 
to  relinquish  one-tenth  of  their  pleasures,  or  their 
possessions,  to  relieve  the  distresses  of  their  fellows  ? 


CESAR’S  COLUMN. 


205 


If  you  do,  you  have  but  a slight  conception  of  the 
callousness  of  their  hearts.  You  were  right  in  what 
you  said  was  the  vital  principle  of  Christianity — 
brotherly  love,  not  alone  of  the  rich  for  the  rich, 
but  of  the  poor  and  rich  for  each  other.  But  that 
spirit  has  passed  away  from  the  breasts  of  the  upper 
classes.  Science  has  increased  their  knowledge  one 
hnndred  per  cent,  and  their  vanity  one  thousand  per 
cent.  The  more  they  know  of  the  material  world  the 
less  they  can  perceive  the  spiritual  world  around 
and  Avithin  it.  The  acquisition  of  a few  facts  about 
nature  has  closed  their  eyes  to  the  existence  of  a 
God.” 

“Ah,”  said  I,  “that  is  a dreadful  thought!  It 
seems  to  me  that  the  man  who  possesses  his  eye- 
sight must  behold  a thousand  evidences  of  a Creator 
denied  to  a blind  man;  and  in  the  same  Avay  the 
man  AA'ho  knows  most  of  the  material  world  should 
see  the  most  conclusive  evidences  of  design  and  a 
Designer.  The  humblest  blade  of  grass  preaches  an 
incontrovertible  sermon.  What  force  is  it  that 
brings  it  up,  green  and  beautiful,  out  of  the  black, 
dead  earth?  Who  made  it  succulent  and  filled  it 
full  of  the  substances  that  will  make  fiesh  and  blood 
and  bone  for  millions  of  gentle,  grazing  animals? 
What  a gap  would  it  have  been  in  nature  if  there 
had  been  no  such  growth,  or  if,  being  such,  it  had 
been  poisonous  or  inedible  ? Whose  persistent  pur- 
pose is  it — AA'hose  everlasting  will — that  year  after 
year,  and  age  after  age,  stirs  the  tender  roots  to 
life  and  growth,  for  the  sustenance  of  uncounted 
generations  of  creatures?  Every  blade  of  grass, 
therefore,  points  with  its  tiny  finger  straight  up- 
ward to  heaven,  and  proclaims  an  eternal,  a benevo- 


206 


CjEsar’s  column. 


lent  God.  It  is  to  me  a dreadful  thing  that  men  can 
penetrate  farther  and  fai’ther  into  nature  with  their 
senses,  and  leave  their  reasoning  faculties  behind 
them.  Instead  of  mind  recognizing  mind,  dust  sim* 
ply  perceives  dust.  This  is  the  suicide  of  the  soul.” 

“Well,  to  this  extremity,”  said  Maximilian,  “the 
governing  classes  of  the  world  have  progressed.  We 
will  go  to-morrow — it  will  be  Sunday — and  visit  one 
of  their  churches ; and  you  shall  see  for  yourself  to 
what  the  blind  adoration  of  wealth  and  the  heart- 
less contempt  of  humanity  have  brought  the  world.” 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

A SEBMON  OF  THE  TWENTIETH  CENTUEY. 

Max  and  I entered  the  church  together.  It  is  a 
magnificent  structure — palatial,  cathedral-like,  in  its 
proportions — a gorgeous  temple  of  fashion,  built 
with  exquisite  taste,  of  different-colored  marbles,  and 
surrounded  by  graceful  columns.  Ushers,  who  looked 
like  guards  in  uniform,  stood  at  the  doors,  to 
keep  out  the  poorly-dressed  people,  if  any  such  pre- 
sented themselves;  for  it  was  evident  that  this 
so-called  church  was  exclusively  a club-house  of  the 
rich. 

As  we  entered  we  passed  several  marble  statues. 
It  is  a curious  illustration  of  the  evolution  of  relig- 
ion, in  these  latter  days,  that  these  statues  are  not 
representations  of  any  persons  who  have  ever  lived, 
or  were  supposed  to  have  lived  on  earth,  or  anywhere 
else;  and  there  was  not  in  or  about  them  any  hint 
whatever  of  myth  or  antique  belief.  In  the  pre-Chris- 
tian days  the  work  of  the  poet  and  sculptor  taught 
a kind  of  history  in  the  statues  of  the  pagan  divini- 
ties. Bacchus  told  of  some  ancient  race  that  had  in- 
troduced the  vine  into  Europe  and  Africa.  Ceres, 
with  her  wheat-plant,  recited  a similar  story  as  to 
agriculture.  And  Zeus,  Hercules,  Saturn  and  all  the 
rest  were,  in  all  probability — as  Socrates  declared — 
deified  men.  And,  of  course,  Christian  art  was  full 
of  beautiful  allusions  to  the  life  of  the  Savior,  or  to 
his  great  and  holy  saints  and  martyrs.  But  here  we 

207 


208 


CjESar’s  column. 


had  simply  splendid  representations  of  naked  hu- 
man figures,  male  and  female,  wondrously  beautiful, 
but  holding  no  associations  whatever  with  what  you 
and  I,  my  dear  Heinrich,  call  religion. 

Passing  these  works  of  art,  we  entered  a magnifi- 
cent hall.  At  the  farther  end  was  a raised  platform, 
almost  embowered  in  flowers  of  many  hues,  all  in 
full  bloom.  The  light  entered  through  stained  win- 
dows, on  the  sides  of  the  hall,  so  colored  as  to  cast  a 
weird  and  luxurious  effulgence  over  the  great  cham- 
ber. On  the  walls  were  a number  of  pictures ; some 
of  a very  sensuous  character;  all  of  great  beauty 
and  perfect  workmanship ; but  none  of  them  of  a re- 
ligious nature,  unless  we  might  except  one  of  the  nude 
Venus  rising  from  the  sea. 

The  body  of  the  hall  was  arranged  like  a great 
lecture-room;  there  were  no  facilities  for  or  sug- 
gestions of  devotion,  but  the  seats  were  abundantly 
cushioned,  and  with  every  arrangement  for  the  com- 
fort of  the  occupants.  The  hall  was  not  more  than 
half  full,  the  greater  part  of  those  present  being 
women.  Most  of  these  were  fair  and  beautiful ; and 
even  those  who  had  long  passed  middle  age  retained, 
by  the  virtue  of  many  cunning  arts,  well  known  to 
these  people,  much  of  the  appearance  and  freshness 
of  youth.  I might  here  note  that  the  prolongation  of 
life  in  the  upper  classes,  and  its  abbreviation  in  the 
lower  classes,  are  marked  and  divergent  character- 
istics of  this  modern  civilization. 

I observed  in  the  women,  as  I had  in  those  of 
the  Darwin  Hotel,  associated  with  great  facial  per- 
fection, a hard  and  soulless  look  out  of  the  eyes ; and 
here,  even  more  than  there,  I could  not  but  notice  a 
sensuality  in  the  full,  red  lips,  and  the  quick-glancing 


LESAirs  COLUMN. 


209 


eyes,  wliich  indLated  that  they  were  splendid  ani- 
mals, and  nothing  more. 

An  usher  led  us  up  one  of  the  thickly  carpeted 
aisles  to  a front  pew ; there  was  a young  lady  al- 
ready seated  in  it.  I entered  first,  and  Max  followed 
me.  The  young  lady  was  possessed  of  imperial 
beauty.  She  looked  at  us  both  quite  boldly,  without 
shrinking,  and  smiled  a little.  We  sat  down.  They 
were  singing  a song — I could  not  call  it  a hymn;  it 
was  all  about  the  “Beautiful  and  the  Good”  — or 
something  of  that  sort.  The  words  and  tune  were 
fine,  but  there  were  no  allusions  to  religion,  or  God,  or 
heaven,  or  anything  else  of  a sacred  character.  The 
young  lady  moved  toward  me  and  offered  to  share 
her  song-book  with  me.  She  sang  quite  sweetly,  but 
there  was  no  more  soul  in  her  voice  than  there  was 
in  the  song. 

After  a little  time  the  preacher  appeared  on  the 
platform.  Max  told  me  his  name  was  Professor  Od- 
yard,  and  that  he  was  one  of  the  most  eminent 
philosophers  and  orators  of  the  day,  but  that  his 
moral  character  was  not  of  the  best.  He  was  a 
large,  thick-set,  florid,  full-bearded  man,  with  large 
lips,  black  hair  and  eyes,  and  swarthy  skin.  His 
voice  was  sweet  and  flute-like,  and  he  had  evidently 
perfected  himself  in  the  graces  of  elocution.  He  spoke 
with  a great  deal  of  animation  and  action ; in  fact, 
he  was  a very  vivacious  actor. 

He  commenced  by  telling  the  congregation  of 
some  new  scientific  discoveries,  recently  made  in  Ger- 
many, by  Professor  V on  der  Slahe,  to  the  efiect  that 
the  whole  body  of  man,  and  of  all  other  animals 
and  even  inanimate  things,  was  a mass  of  living  mi- 
crobes— not  in  the  sense  of  disease  or  parasites,  but 
14 


210 


VjESAR’tS  COLUMN. 


that  the  intrinsic  matter  of  all  forms  was  life-forms ; 
the  infinite  molecules  were  creatures ; and  that  there 
was  no  substance  that  was  not  animated ; and  that 
life  was  therefore  infinitely  more  abundant  in  the 
w'orld  than  matter ; that  life  was  matter. 

And  then  he  went  on  to  speak  of  the  recent  great 
discoveries  made  by  Professor  Thomas  O’Connor,  of 
the  Oregon  University,  which  promise  to  end  the 
reign  of  disease  on  earth,  and  give  men  patriarchal 
leases  of  life.  More  than  a century  ago  it  had  been 
observed,  where  the  bacteria  of  contagious  disorders 
were  bred  in  culture-infusions,  for  purposes  of  study, 
that  after  a time  they  became  surrounded  by  masses 
of  substance  which  destroyed  them.  It  occurred  to 
Professor  O’Connor,  that  it  was  a rule  of  Nature  that 
life  preyed  on  life,  and  that  every  form  of  being  was 
accompanied  by  enemies  which  held  its  over-growth 
in  check : the  deer  were  eaten  by  the  wolves ; the  doves 
by  the  haw'ks ; the  gnats  by  the  dragon-flies. 

“ Big  fleas  had  little  fleas  to  bite  ’em, 

And  these  had  lesser  still,  ad  inSnitum.” 

Professor  O’Connor  found  that,  in  like  manner, 
bacteria,  of  all  kinds,  were  devoured  by  minuter 
forms  of  life.  Kecovery  from  sickness  meant  that  the 
microbes  were  destroyed  by  their  natural  enemies  be- 
fore they  had  time  to  take  possession  of  the  entire 
system ; death  resulted  where  the  vital  powers  could 
not  hold  out  until  the  balance  of  nature  was  thus  re- 
established. He  found,  therefore,  that  the  remedy 
for  disease  Avas  to  take  some  of  the  culture-infusion 
in  which  malignant  bacteria  had  just  perished,  and 
inject  it  into  the  veins  of  the  sick  man.  This  was 
like  stocking  a rat-infested  barn  with  weasles.  The 


CjESAR'S  column. 


211 


invisible,  but  greedy  swarms  of  bacilli  penetrated 
every  part  of  the  body  in  search  of  their  prey,  and 
the  man  recovered  his  health.  Where  an  epidemic 
threatened,  the  whole  community  was  to  be  thus  in- 
oculated, and  then,  when  a wandering  microbe  found 
lodgment  in  a human  system,  it  would  be  pounced 
upon  and  devoured  before  it  could  reproduce  its  kind. 
He  even  argued  that  old  age  was  largely  due  to  bac- 
teria ; and  that  perpetual  youth  would  be  possible  if 
a germicide  could  be  found  that  would  reach  every 
fiber  of  the  body,  and  destroy  the  swarming  life-forms 
which  especially  attacked  the  vital  forces  of  the  aged. 

And  then  he  referred  to  a new  invention  by  a Cali- 
fornia scientist,  named  Henry  Myers,  whereby  tele- 
phonic communication  had  been  curiously  instituted 
with  intelligences  all  around  us — not  spirits  or 
ghosts,  but  forms  of  life  like  our  own,  but  which  our 
senses  had  hitherto  not  been  able  to  perceive.  They 
were  new  forms  of  matter,  but  of  an  extreme  tenuity 
of  substance;  and  with  intellects  much  like  our  own, 
though  scarcely  of  so  high  or  powerful  an  order.  It 
was  suggested  by  the  preacher  that  these  shadowy 
earth-beings  had  probably  given  rise  to  many  of  the 
Old-World  beliefs  as  to  ghosts,  spirits,  fairies,  goblins, 
angels  and  demons.  The  field  in  this  direction,  he 
said,  had  been  just  opened,  and  it  was  difficult  to 
tell  how  far  the  diversity  and  multiplicity  of  creation 
extended.  He  said  it  was  remarkable  that  our  an- 
cestors had  not  foreseen  these  revelations,  for  they 
knew  that  there  were  sound-waves  both  above  and 
below  the  register  of  our  hearing ; and  light-waves  of 
which  our  eyes  were  able  to  take  no  cognizance ; and 
therefore  it  followed,  a priori,  that  nature  might  pos- 
sess an  infinite  number  of  forms  of  life  which  our 


212 


CJESAR^S  COLUMN. 


senses  were  not  fitted  to  perceive.  For  instance,  he 
added,  there  might  be  right  here,  in  this  very  hall, 
the  houses  and  work-shops  and  markets  of  a mul- 
titude of  beings,  who  swarmed  about  us,  but  of  such 
tenuity  that  they  passed  through  our  substance,  and 
we  through  theirs,  without  the  slightest  disturbance 
of  their  continuity.  All  that  we  knew  of  Nature 
taught  us  that  she  was  tireless  in  the  prodigality  of 
her  creative  force,  and  boundless  in  the  diversity  of 
her  workmanship ; and  we  now  knew  that  what  the 
ancients  called  spirit  was  simply  an  attenuated  con- 
dition of  matter. 

The  audience  were  evidently  keenly  intellectual 
and  highly  educated,  and  they  listened  with  great 
attention  to  this  discourse.  In  fact,  I began  to  per- 
ceive that  the  office  of  preacher  has  only  survived, 
in  this  material  age,  on  condition  that  the  priest 
shall  gather  up,  during  the  week,  from  the  literary 
and  scientific  publications  of  the  whole  world,  the 
gems  of  current  thought  and  information,  digest 
them  carefully,  and  pour  them  forth,  in  attractive 
form,  for  their  delectation  on  Sunday.  As  a sort  of 
oratorical  and  poetical  reviewer,  essayist  and  rhap- 
sodist,  the  parson  and  his  church  had  survived  the 
decadence  of  religion. 

“Nature,”  he  continued,  “is  as  merciless  as  she  is 
prolific.  Let  us  consider  the  humblest  little  creature 
that  lives — we  will  say  the  field-mouse.  Think  what 
an  exquisite  compendium  it  is  of  bones,  muscles, 
nerves,  veins,  arteries  — all  sheathed  in  such  a deli- 
cate, flexible  and  glossy  covering  of  skin.  Observe 
the  innumerable  and  beautiful  adjustments  in  the  lit- 
tle animal : the  bright,  pumping,  bounding  blood ; the 
brilliant  eyes,  with  their  marvelous  powers;  the  ap- 


CESAR’S  COLUMN. 


213 


prelieiiding  brain,  with  its  sentiments  and  emotions, 
its  loves,  its  fears,  its  hopes ; and  note,  too,  that  won- 
derful net-Avork,  that  telegraphic  apparatus  of  nerves 
Avhich  connects  the  brain  \\dth  the  eyes  and  ears  and 
quick,  Auvacious  little  feet.  One  AA’ho  took  but  a half 
A’ieAA’  of  things  Avould  say,  ‘ Hoav  beneA^olent  is  Nature, 
that  has  so  kindly  equipped  the  tiny  field-mouse  AAuth 
the  means  of  protection — its  quick, listening  ears;  its 
keen,  AA’atchful  eyes ; its  rapid,  glancing  feet ! ’ But 
look  a little  farther,  my  brethren,  and  AA'hat  do  you 
behold?  This  same  benevolent  Nature  has  formed 
another,  larger  creature,  to  Avatch  for  and  spring 
upon  this  ‘timorous  little  beastie,’  even  in  its  mo. 
ments  of  unsuspecting  happiness,  and  rend,  tear, 
crush  and  mangle  it  to  pieces.  And  to  this  especial 
AA’ork  Nature  has  given  the  larger  animal  a set  of  ad- 
justments as  exquisitely  perfect  as  those  it  has  con- 
ferred on  the  smaller  one ; to-AA’it : eyes  to  behold  in 
the  darkness ; teeth  to  tear ; claAA^s  to  rend ; muscles 
to  spring;  patience  to  wait;  and  a stomach  that 
- clamors  for  the  blood  of  its  innocent  felloAA’-creature. 

“And  what  lesson  does  this  learned  and  cultured 
age  draAV  from  these  facts?  Simply  this:  that  the 
plan  of  Nature  necessarily  involves  cruelty,  suffering, 
injustice,  destruction,  death. 

“We  are  told  by  a school  of  philanthropists  more 
numerous  in  the  old  time,  fortunately,  than  they  are 
at  present,  that  men  should  not  be  happy  AA'hile  their 
fellow'-men  are  miserable ; that  aa'c  must  decrease  our 
OAvn  pleasures  to  make  others  comfortable;  and 
much  more  of  the  same  sort.  But,  my  brethren,  does 
Nature  preach  that  gospel  to  the  cat  when  it  de- 
stroys the  field-mouse?  No ; she  equips  it  AA'ith  special 
aptitudes  for  the  work  of  slaughter. 


214 


^.SSAR’S  COLUMN. 


“If  Nature,  with  her  interminable  fecundity,  pours 
forth  millions  of  human  beings  for  whom  there  is  no 
place  on  earth,  and  no  means  of  subsistence,  what  af- 
fair is  that  of  ours,  my  brethren?  We  did  not  make 
them ; we  did  not  ask  Nature  to  make  them.  And  it 
is  Nature’s  business  to  feed  them,  not  yours  or  mine. 
Are  we  better  than  Nature?  Are  we  wiser?  Shall  we 
rebuke  the  Great  Mother  by  caring  for  those  whom 
she  has  abandoned?  If  she  intended  that  all  men 
should  be  happy,  why  did  she  not  make  them  so? 
She  is  omnipotent.  She  permits  evil  to  exist,  when 
with  a breath  of  her  mouth  she  could  sweep  it  away 
forever.  But  it  is  part  of  her  scheme  of  life.  She  is 
indifferent  to  the  cries  of  distress  which  rise  up  to  her, 
in  one  undying  w^ail,  from  the  face  of  the  universe. 
With  stony  eyes  the  thousand-handed  goddess  sits, 
serene  and  merciless,  in  the  midst  of  her  worshipers, 
like  a Hindoo  idol.  Her  skirts  are  wet  with  blood ; 
her  creation  is  based  on  destruction;  her  lives  live 
only  by  murder.  The  cruel  images  of  the  pagan  are 
truer  delineations  of  Nature  than  the  figures  which 
typify  the  impotent  charity  of  Christendom  — an 
exotic  in  the  midst  of  an  alien  world. 

“Let  the  abyss  groan.  Why  should  we  trouble 
ourselves.  Let  us  close  our  ears  to  the  cries  of  dis- 
tress we  are  not  able  to  relieve.  It  was  said  of  old 
time,  ‘Many  are  called,  but  few  chosen,’  Our  an- 
cestors placed  a mythical  interpretation  on  this  text; 
but  we  know  that  it  means: — many  are  called  to 
the  sorrows  of  life,  but  few  are  chosen  to  inhei'it  the 
delights  of  wealth  and  happiness.  Buddha  told  us, 
‘Poverty  is  the  curse  of  Brahma;’  Mahomet  declared 
that  ‘God  smote  the  wicked  with  misery;  ’ and  Christ 
saidj  ‘The  poor  ye  have  always  with  you.’  Why,  then, 


CJESAlt'S  COLUMN. 


215 


should  we  concern  ourselves  about  the  poor?  They 
are  part  of  the  everlasting  economy  of  human  soci- 
ety. Let  us  leave  them  in  the  hands  of  Nature.  She 
who  made  them  can  care  for  them. 

“Let  us  rejoice  that  out  of  the  misery  of  the  uni- 
verse we  are  reserved  for  happiness.  For  us  are 
music,  painting,  sculpture,  the  interweaving  glories 
of  the  dance,  the  splendors  of  poetry  and  oratory, 
the  perfume  of  flowers,  all  delicate  and  dainty  viands 
and  sparkling  wines  and  nectars;  and  above  all 
Love!  Love!  Entrancing,  enrapturing  Love!  With 
its  glowing  cheeks — its  burning  eyes — its  hot  lips — 
its  wreathing  arms — its  showering  kisses — its  palpi- 
tating bosoms — its  intertwining  symmetry  of 
beauty  and  of  loveliness.” 

Here  the  young  lady  with  the  song  book  drew 
up  closer  to  me,  and  looked  up  into  my  eyes  with  a 
gaze  which  no  son  of  Adam  could  misunderstand.  I 
thought  of  Estella,  like  a true  knight,  and  turned 
my  face  to  the  preacher.  While  his  doctrines  were, 
to  me,  utterly  heartless  and  abominable,  there  was 
about  him  such  an  ecstasy  of  voluptuousness,  asso- 
ciated with  considerable  intellectual  force  and 
passionate  oratory,  that  I was  quite  interested  in 
him  as  a psychological  study.  1 could  not  help  but 
think  by  what  slow  stages,  through  many  genera- 
tions, a people  calling  themselves  Christians  could 
have  been  brought  to  this  curious  commingling  of  in- 
tellectuality and  bestiality;  and  all  upon  the  basis 
of  indifference  to  the  sorrows  and  suflerings  of  their 
fellow-creatures . 

“On  with  the  dance!”  shouted  the  preacher, 
“though  we  dance  above  graves.  Let  the  very 
calamities  of  the  world  accentuate  our  pleasures. 


CJ<:SAR’S  COLUMN. 


im 

even  as  the  warm  and  sheltered  fireside  seems  more 
delightful  when  we  hear  without  the  roar  of  the  tem- 
pest. The  ancient  Egyptians  brought  into  their 
banquets  the  mummied  bodies  of  the  dead,  to  re- 
mind them  of  mortality.  It  was  a foolish  custom. 
Men  are  made  to  feast  and  made  to  die;  and  the  one 
is  as  natural  as  the  other.  Let  us,  on  the  other 
hand,  when  we  rejoice  together,  throw  open  our  win- 
dows, that  we  may  behold  the  swarming,  starving 
multitudes  who  stream  past  our  doors.  Their 
pinched  and  ashy  faces  and  hungry  eyes,  properly 
considered,  will  add  a flavor  to  our  viands.  We 
will  rejoice  to  think  that  if,  in  this  ill-governed 
universe,  all  cannot  be  blest,  we  at  least  rise  above 
the  universal  wretchedness  and  are  reserved  for  hap- 
piness. «. 

“Rejoice,  therefore,  my  children,  in  your  wealth, 
in  your  heallth,  in  your  strength,  in  your  bodies, 
and  in  your  loves.  Ye  are  the  flower  and  perfection 
of  mankind.  Let  no  plea  shorten,  by  one  instant, 
your  pleasures.  Death  is  the  end  of  all  things — of 
consciousness ; of  sensation ; of  happiness.  Immor- 
tality is  the  dream  of  dotards.  When  ye  can  no 
longer  enjoy,  make  ready  for  the  grave;  for  the  end 
of  Love  is  death. 

“And  what  is  Love?  Love  is  the  drawing  together 
of  two  beings,  in  that  nature-enforced  affinity  and 
commingling,  when  out  of  the  very  impact  and  iden- 
tity of  two  spirits,  life,  triumphant  life,  springs  into 
the  universe. 

“ What  a powerful  impulse  is  this  LoA^e?  It  is  na- 
ture-wide. The  rushing  together  of  the  chemical  ele- 
ments; the  attraction  of  suns  and  planets — all  are 
Love.  See  how  even  the  plant  casts  its  pollen  abroad 


COLUMN. 


217 


on  the  winds,  that  it  may  somewhere  reach  and  rest 
upon  the  loving  bosom  of  a sister-flower ; and  there, 
amid  perfume  and  sweetness  and  the  breath  of 
zephyrs,  the  great  mystery  of  life  is  re-enacted.  The 
plant  is  without  intellect,  but  it  is  sensible  to  Love. 

“And  who  shall  doubt,  when  he  contemplates  the 
complicated  mechanism  by  which,  everywhere,  this 
God-Nature — blind  as  to  pain  and  sin  and  death, 
but  tender  and  solicitous  as  to  birth  and  life — makes 
Love  possible,  imperative,  soulful,  overwhelming, 
that  the  purposed  end  and  aim  of  life  is  Love.  And 
how  pitiful  and  barren  seem  to  us  the  lives  of  the  su- 
perstitious and  ascetic  hermits  of  the  ancient  world, 
who  fled  to  desert  places,  to  escape  from  Love,  and 
believed  that  they  were  overcoming  the  foul  fiend  by 
prayers  and  fastings  and  scourgings.  But  outraged 
Nature,  mighty  amid  the  ruins  of  their  blasted 
hearts,  reasserted  herself,  and  visited  them  even  in 
dreams;  and  the  white  arms  and  loving  lips  of 
woman  overwhelmed  them  with  hot  and  passionate 
caresses,  in  visions  against  which  they  strove  in  vain. 

“ Oh,  my  brethren,  every  nerve,  fiber,  muscle,  and 
‘petty  artery  of  the  body,’  participates  in  Love. 
Love  is  the  conqueror  of  death,  because  Love  alone 
perpetuates  life.  Love  is  life!  Love  is  religion! 
Love  is  the  universe ! Love  is  God ! ” 

And  with  this  climax  he  sat  down  amid  great  ap- 
plause, as  in  a theater. 

I need  scarcely  say  to  you,  my  dear  Heinrich,  that 
I was  absolutely  shocked  by  this  sermon.  Knowing, 
as  you  do,  the  kind  and  pure  and  gentle  doctrines 
taught  in  the  little  church  in  our  mountain  home, 
where  love  means  charity  for  man  and  worship  of 
God,  you  may  imagine  how  my  blood  boiled  at  this 


218 


C3:SA1VS  COLUMN. 


cruel,  carnal  and  heartless  harangue.  The  glowing 
and  picturesque  words  which  he  poured  out  were  sim- 
ply a carpet  of  flowers  spread  over  crawling  serpents. 

The  audience  of  course  were  familiar  with  these 
doctrines.  The  preacher  owed  his  success,  indeed,  to 
the  fact  that  he  had  courageously  avowed  the  senti- 
ments which  had  dwelt  in  the  breasts  of  the  people 
and  had  been  enacted  in  their  lives  for  generations. 
The  congregation  had  listened  with  rapt  attention 
to  this  eloquent  echo  of  their  own  hearts ; this  justifi- 
cation of  their  Nature-worship;  this  re-birth  of 
Paganism.  The  women  nestled  closer  to  the  men  at 
the  tender  passages ; and  I noticed  many  a flashing 
interchange  of  glances,  between  bold,  bright  eyes, 
which  told  too  well  that  the  great  preacher’s  adjura- 
tions were  not  thrown  away  upon  unwilling  listeners. 

Another  song  was  sung;  and  then  there  was_  a 
rustle  of  silks  and  satins.  The  audience  were  about 
to  withdraw.  The  preacher  sat  upon  his  sofa,  on 
the  platform,  mopping  his  broad  forehead  with  his 
handkerchief,  for  he  had  spoken  with  great  energy. 
I could  restrain  myself  no  longer.  I rose  and  said  in 
a loud  voice,  which  at  once  arrested  the  movement 
of  the  congregation : 

“Reverend  sir,  would  you  permit  a stranger  to 
make  a few  comments  on  your  sermon?  ” 

“Certainly,”  he  replied,  very  courteously;  “we 
welcome  discussion.  Will  you  step  to  the  plat- 
form?” 

“No,”  I replied;  “with  your  permission  I shall 
speak  from  where  I stand. 

“I  can  only  say  to  you  that  I am  inexpressibly 
shocked  and  grieved  by  your  discourse. 

“Are  you  blind?  Can  you  not  see  that  Christian- 


CJESAR'S  COLUMN. 


219 


ity  was  intended  by  God  to  be  something  better  and 
nobler,  superimposed,  as  an  after-birth  of  time,  on 
the  brutality  of  the  elder  world?  Does  not  the  great 
doctrine  of  Evolution,  in  which  you  believe,  preach 
this  gospel?  If  man  rose  from  a brute  form,  then 
advanced  to  human  and  savage  life,  yet  a robber 
and  a murderer;  then  reached  civility  and  culture, 
and  philanthropy;  can  you  not  see  that  the  finger- 
board of  God  points  forward,  unerringly,  along  the 
whole  track  of  the  race ; and  that  it  is  still  pointing 
forward  to  stages,  in  the  future,  when  man  shall 
approximate  the  angels?  But  this  is  not  your  doc- 
trine. Your  creed  does  not  lead  forward;  it  leads 
backward,  to  the  troglodyte  in  his  cavern,  splitting 
the  leg-bones  of  his  victim  to  extract  the  marrow 
for  his  cannibalistic  feast.  He  w’ould  have  enjoyed 
your  sermon!”  [Great  excitement  in  the  congrega- 
tion.] 

“And  your  gospel  of  Love.  What  is  it  but  beast- 
liness? Like  the  old  Greeks  and  Komans,  and  all 
undeveloped  antiquity,  you  deify  the  basest  traits  of 
the  fleshly  organism ; you  exalt  an  animal  incident  of 
life  into  the  end  of  life.  You  drive  out  of  the  lofty 
temples  of  the  soul  the  noble  and  pure  aspirations, 
the  great  charities,  the  divine  thoughts,  which  should 
float  there  forever  on  the  pinions  of  angels ; and  you 
cover  the  floor  of  the  temple-  with  crawling  creatures, 
toads,  lizards,  vipers — groveling  instincts,  base  appe- 
tites, leprous  sensualities,  that  befoul  the  walls  of 
the  house  with  their  snail-like  markings,  and  climb, 
and  climb,  until  they  look  out  of  the  very  windows 
of  the  soul,  with  such  repellent  and  brutish  eyes, 
that  real  love  withers  and  shrinks  at  the  sight,  and 
dies  like  a blasted  flower. 


220 


CjESAU’S  column. 


“0  shallow  teacher  of  the  blind,  do  you  not 
see  that  Christianity  was  a new  force,  Heaven-sent, 
to  overcome  that  very  cruelty  and  heartlessness  of 
Nature  which  you  so  much  commend?  Nature’s  off- 
spring was  indeed  the  savage,  merciless  as  the  creed 
you  preach:  Then  came  God,  who  breathed  a soul 
into  the  nostrils  of  the  savage.  Then  came  One  after 
Him  who  said  the  essence  of  all  religion  was  man’s 
love  for  his  fellow  man,  and  for  the  God  that  is  over 
all ; that  the  highest  worship  of  the  Father  was  to 
heal  the  sick,  and  feed  the  hungry,  and  comfort  the 
despised  and  rejected,  and  lift  up  the  fallen.  And 
love! — that  was  true  love,  made  up  in  equal  parts  of 
adoration  and  of  pity  I Not  the  thing  you  call  love, 
which  makes  these  faces  flush  with  passion  and  these 
eyes  burn  with  lust  I” 

I had  gotten  thus  far,  and  was  proceeding  swim- 
mingly, very  much  to  my  own  satisfaction,  when  an 
old  woman  who  stood  near  me,  and  who  was  dressed 
like  a girl  of  twenty,  with  false  rubber  shoulders  and 
neck  and  cheeks,  to  hide  the  ravages  of  time,  hurled 
a huge  hymn-book,  the  size  of  a Bible,  at  me.  Age 
had  not  impaired  the  venerable  woman’s  accuracy  of 
aim,  nor  withered  the  strength  of  her  good  right 
arm;  and  the  volume  of  diluted  piety  encountered 
me,  with  great  force,  just  below  my  right  ear,  and 
sent  me  reeling  over  against  Max.  As  I rose,  nothing 
disconcerted,  to  renew  my  discourse,  I found  the  air 
full  of  hymn-books,  cushions,  umbrellas,  overshoes, 
and  every  other  missile  they  could  lay  their  hands  on; 
and  then  I perceived  that  the  whole  congregation, 
men,  women,  children,  preacher,  clerks  and  ushers, 
were  all  advancing  upon  me  with  evil  intent.  I 
would  fain  have  staid  to  have  argued  the  matter  out 


CjESAR'S  column. 


221 


with  them,  for  I was  full  of  a gi’eat  many  fine  points, 
which  I had  not  yet  had  time  to  present,  but  Max, 
who  never  had  any  interest  in  theological  discus- 
sions, and  abhorred  a battle  with  Amazons,  seized  me 
by  the  arm  and  literally  dragged  me  out  of  the 
church.  I continued,  however,  to  shout  back  my 
anathemas  of  the  preacher,  and  that  worthy  an- 
swered me  with  floods  of  abuse;  and  the  women 
screamed,  and  the  men  howled  and  swore;  and  alto- 
gether it  was  a very  pretty  assemblage  that  poured 
forth  upon  the  sidewalk. 

“Come  along,”  said  Max;  “you  will  be  arrested, 
and  that  will  spoil  everything.” 

He  hurried  me  into  a carriage  and  we  drove  off. 
Although  still  full  of  the  debate,  I could  not  help  but 
laugh  when  I looked  back  at  the  multitude  in  front 
of  the  church.  Every  one  was  wildly  ejaculating,  ex- 
cept some  of  the  sisters,  who  were  kissing  the  hands 
and  face  of  the  preacher — dear,  good  man — to  con- 
sole him  for  the  hateful  insults  I had  heaped  upon 
him!  They  reminded  me  of  a swarm  of  hornets 
whose  paper  domicile  had  been  rudely  kicked  by  the 
foot  of  some  wandering  country  boy. 

“Well,  well,”  said  Max,  “ you  are  a strange  char- 
acter I Tour  impulses  will  some  time  cost  you  your 
life.  If  I did  not  think  so  much  of  you  as  I do, 
I should  tell  you  you  were  a great  fool.  Why 
couldn’t  you  keep  quiet?  You  surely  didn’t  hope  to 
convert  that  congregation,  any  more  than  you  could 
have  converted  the  Council  of  the  Plutocracy.” 

“But,  my  dear  fellow,”  I replied,  “it  was  a great 
comfort  to  me  to  be  able  to  tell  that  old  rascal  just 
what  I thought  of  him.  And  you  can’t  tell — it  may 
do  some  good.” 


222 


CESAR'S  COLUMN. 


“No,  no,”  said  Max;  “the  only  preacher  that  will 
ever  convert  that  congregation  is  Caesar  Lomellini. 
Caesar  is  a bigger  brute  than  they  are — which  is  say- 
ing a good  deal.  The  difference  is,  they  are  brutes 
who  are  in  possession  of  the  good"  things  of  this 
world ; and  Caesar  is  a brute  who  wants  to  get  into 
possession  of  them.  And  there  is  another  differ- 
ence: they  are  polished  and  cultured  brutes,  and 
Caesar  is  the  brute  natural, — ‘the  unaccommodated 
man  ’ that  Lear  spoke  of.” 


CHAPTER  XXII. 


ESTELLA  AND  I. 

I NEED  not  say  to  you,  my  dear  Heinrich,  how 
greatly  I love  Estella.  It  is  not  alone  for  her  beauty, 
although  that  is  as  perfect  and  as  graceful  as  the 
dream  of  some  Greek  artist  hewn  in  immortal  mar- 
ble. That  alone  would  have  elicited  merely  my  ad- 
miration. But  there  is  that  in  her  which  wins  my 
profoundest  respect  and  love — I had  almost  said  my 
veneration.  Her  frame  is  but  the  crystal-clear  cov- 
ering of  a bright  and  pure  soul,  without  stain  or 
shadow  or  blemish.  It  does  not  seem  possible  for  her 
to  be  otherwise  than  good.  And  yet,  within  this 
goodness,  there  is  an  hereditary  character  intrenched, 
capable,  under  necessity,  of  all  heroism — a fearless 
and  a potent  soul.  And,  besides  all  this,  she  is  a 
woman,  womanly ; a being  not  harsh  and  angular  in 
character,  but  soft  and  lovable — 

‘‘A  countenance  in  which  do  meet 
Sweet  records,  promises  as  sweet ; 

A creature  not  too  bright  or  good 
For  human  nature’s  daily  food ; 

For  transient  sorrows,  simple  wiles. 

Praise,  blame,  love,  kisses,  tears  and  smiles.” 

You  may  judge,  my  dear  brother,  having  gone 
through  a similar  experience,  how  profoundly  I was 
drawn  to  her ; how  absolute  a necessity  she  seemed 
to  my  life.  Neither  was  I a despairing  lover;  for 
had  she  not,  at  a time  when  death  seemed  imminent, 

223 


224 


cjESAti's  cotmiN. 


avowed  her  love  for  me?  Yes,  ^‘love” — that  was  the 
word  she  used;  and  the  look  which  accompanied  it 
gave  the  word  a double  emphasis.  But  there  was  a 
giant  difficulty  in  my  path.  If  she  had  compromised 
her  maiden  reserve  in  that  particular,  how  could  I 
take  advantage  of  it  ? And  how  could  I still  further 
take  advantage  of  her  lonely  and  friendless  condi- 
tion to  press  my  suit?  And  yet  I could  not  leave 
her  alone  to  encounter  all  the  dangers  of  the  dread- 
ful time  which  I know  too  well  is  approaching.  If 
she  had  stood,  happy  and  contented,  in  the  midst  of 
her  family,  under  the  shelter  of  father  and  mother, 
surrounded  by  brothers  and  sisters,  with  a bright 
and  peaceful  future  before  her,  I could  have  found 
courage  enough  to  press  my  suit,  to  throw  myself  at 
her  feet,  and  woo  her  boldly,  as  man  woos  woman. 
But  this  poor,  unhappy,  friendless,  lovely  girl! 
What  could  I do?  Day  and  night  I pondered  the 
problem,  and  at  last  an  expedient  occurred  to  me. 

I called  upon  her.  She  had  fled  from  the  palace 
without  a wardrobe.  A woman  may  be  a heroine, 
but  she  is  still  a woman.  Joan  of  Arc  must  have 
given  considerable  thought  to  her  cap  and  ribbons. 
Estella  was  busy,  with  a dressmaker,  contriving  sev- 
eral dresses.  I asked  her  if  I could  speak  with  her. 
She  started,  blushed  a little,  and  led  the  way  into  an- 
other room.  I closed  the  door. 

“My  dear  Estella,”  I said,  “I  have  been  amusing 
my  leisure  by  composing  a fairy  story.” 

“Indeed,”  she  said,  smiling,  “a  strange,  occupa- 
tion for  a philanthropist  and  philosopher,  to  say 
nothing  of  a poet.” 

“It  is,  perhaps,”  I replied,  in  the  same  playful 
vein,  “the  poetical  portion  of  my  nature  that  has  set 


CjSH-AR-S  COLUMiY. 


225 


jne  at  this  work.  But  I cannot  satisfy  myself  as  to 
the  denouement  of  my  story,  and  I desire  your  aid 
and  counsel.” 

“I  am  all  attention,”  she  replied;  “proceed  with 
your  story;  — but  first,  wait  a moment.  I will  get, 
some  of  my  work ; and  then  I can  listen  to  you  with- 
out feeling  that  I am  wasting  precious  time.” 

“Otherwise  you  would  feel,”  I said,  “that  your 
time  was  wasted  listening  to  me?  ” 

“No,”  she  said,  laughing,  “but  in  listening  to  a 
fairy  tale.” 

She  returned  in  a few  moments,  and  we  took  seats, 
I covering  my  real  feeling  by  an  assumed  gayety, 
and  Estella  listening  attentively,  with  her  eyes  on  her 
work. 

“You  must  know,”  I commenced,  “that  my  tale 
is  entitled ; 

THE  STORY  OF  PRINCESS  CHARMING  AND  THE 
KNIGHT  WEAKHART. 

“‘Once  upon  a time’ — you  know  all  fairy  stories 
are  dated  from  that  eventful  period  of  the  world’s 
history — there  was  a beautiful  princess,  who  lived  in 
a grand  palace,  and  her  name  was  Princess  Charm- 
ing; and  she  was  every  way  worthy  of  her  name;  for 
she  was  as  good  as  she  was  handsome.  But  a dread- 
ful dwarf,  who  had  slain  many  people  in  that  coun- 
try, slew  her  father  and  mother,  and  robbed  the  poor 
Princess  of  her  fine  house,  and  carried  her  off  and  de- 
livered her  to  an  old  fairy,  called  Cathel,  a wicked 
and  bad  old  sorceress  and  witch,  who  sat  all  day 
surrounded  by  black  cats,  weaving  incantations  and 
making  charms,  which  she  sold  to  all  who  would  buy 
of  her.  Now,  among  the  customers  of  Cathel  was  a 
16 


226 


CjEsar's  column. 


monstrous  and  bloody  giant,  whose  castle  was  not 
far  away.  He  was  called  The  Ogre  Eedgore.  He  was 
a cannibal,  and  bought  charms  from  Cathel,  with 
which  to  entice  young  men,  women  and  children 
into  his  dreadful  den,  which  was  surrounded  with 
heaps  of  bones  of  those  he  had  killed  and  devoured. 
Now  it  chanced  that  when  he  came  one  day  to  buy 
his  charms  from  Cathel,  the  old  witch  asked  him 
if  he  did  not  desire  to  purchase  a beautiful  young 
girl.  He  said  he  wanted  one  of  that  very  kind  for  a 
banquet  he  was  about  to  give  to  some  of  his  fel- 
low giants.  ad  thereupon  the  wicked  old  woman 
showed  him  the  fair  and  lovely  Princess  Charming, 
sitting  weeping,  among  the  ashes,  on  the  kitchen 
hearth.  He  felt  her  flesh,  to  see  if  she  was  young 
and  tender  enough  for  the  feast,  and,  being  satisfied 
upon  this  important  point,  he  and  the  old  witch 
were  not  long  in  coming  to  terms  as  to  the  price  to 
be  paid  for  her. 

“And  so  he  started  home,  soon  after,  with  poor 
Princess  Charming  under  his  arm;  she,  the  while, 
filling  the  air  with  her  piteous  lamentations  and 
appeals  for  help. 

“And  now  it  so  chanced  that  a wandering  knight, 
called  Weakhart,  from  a far  country,  came  riding 
along  the  road  that  very  day,  clad  in  steel  armor, 
and  with  his  lance  in  rest.  And  when  he  heard  the 
pitiful  cries  of  Princess  Charming,  and  beheld  her 
beauty,  he  drove  the  spurs  into  his  steed  and  dashed 
forward,  and  would  have  driven  the  lance  clear 
through  the  giant’s  body;  but  that  worthy  saw 
him  coming,  and,  dropping  the  Princess  and  spring- 
ing aside  with  great  agility,  he  caught  the  lance 
and  broke  it  in  many  pieces.  Then  they  drew  their 


C^SAJl^S  COLUMN. 


227 


swords  and  a terrible  battle  ensued;  and  Princess 
Cliarminc?  knelt  down,  the  while,  by  the  roadside,  and 
prayed  long  and  earnestly  for  the  success  of  the 
good  Knight  Weakhart.  But  if  he  was  weak  of 
heart  he  was  strong  of  arm,  and  at  last,  with  a tre- 
mendous blow,  he  cut  the  ugly  ogre’s  head  off ; and 
the  latter  fell  dead  on  the  road,  as  an  ogre  naturally 
will  when  his  head  is  taken  off.  And  then  the  Knight 
Weakhart  was  more  afraid  of  being  alone  with  the 
Princess  than  he  had  been  of  the  giant.  But  she  rose 
up,  and  dried  her  tears,  and  thanked  him.  And  then 
the  Princess  and  the  Knight  were  in  a grave  quan- 
dary; for,  of  course,  she  could  not  go  back  to  the 
den  of  that  wicked  witch,  Cathel,  and  she  had 
nowhere  else  to  go.  And  so  Weakhart,  with  many 
tremblings,  asked  her  to  go  with  him  to  a cavern 
in  the  woods,  where  he  had  taken  shelter.” 

Here  I glanced  at  Estella,  and  her  face  was  pale 
and  quiet,  and  the  smile  was  all  gone  from  it.  I con- 
tinued : 

u There  was  nothing  else  for  it;  and  so  the  poor 
Princess  mounted  in  front  of  the  Knight  on  his 
horse,  and  they  rode  off  together  to  the  cavern. 
And  there  Weakhart  fitted  up  a little  room  for  the 
Princess,  and  made  her  a bed  of  the  fragrant  boughs 
of  trees,  and  placed  a door  to  the  room  and  showed 
her  how  she  could  fasten  it,  and  brought  her  fiowers. 
And  every  day  he  hunted  the  deer  and  the  bear,  and 
made  a fire  and  cooked  for  her;  and  he  treated 
her  with  as  much  courtesy  and  respect  as  if  she  had 
been  a queen  sitting  upon  her  throne. 

^ind,  oh ! how  that  poor  Knight  Weakhart  loved 
the  Princess ! He  loved  the  very  ground  she  walked 
on;  and  he  loved  all  nature  because  it  surrounded 


228 


CESAR'S  COLUMN. 


her ; and  he  loved  the  very  sun,  moon  and  stars  be- 
cause they  shone  down  upon  her.  Nay,  not  only  did 
he  love  her;  he  worshiped  her,  as  the  devotee 
worships  his  god.  She  was  all  the  constellations  of 
the  sky  to  him.  Universal  nature  had  nothing  that 
could  displace  her  for  a moment  from  his  heart. 
Night  and  day  she  filled  his  soul  with  her  ineffable 
image ; and  the  birds  and  the  breeze  and  the  whisper- 
ing trees  seemed  to  be  all  forever  speaking  her  be- 
loved name  in  his  ears. 

“But  what  could  he  do?  The  Princess  was  poor, 
helpless,  dependent  upon  him.  Would  it  not  be  un- 
manly of  him  to  take  advantage  of  her  misfortunes 
and  frighten  or  coax  her  into  becoming  his  wife? 
Might  she  not  mistake  gratitude  for  love?  Could 
she  make  a free  choice  unless  she  was  herself  free? 

“And  so  the  poor  Knight  Weakhart  stilled  the 
beating  of  the  fluttering  bird  in  his  bosom,  and 
hushed  down  his  emotions,  and  continued  to  hunt 
and  cook  and  wait  upon  his  beloved  Princess. 

“At  last,  one  day,  the  Knight  Weakhart  heard 
dreadful  news.  A people  called  Vandals,  rude  and 
cruel  barbarians,  bloodthirsty  and  warlike,  conquer- 
ors of  nations,  had  arrived  in  immense  numbers 
near  the  borders  of  that  country,  and  in  a few  days 
they  would  pour  over  and  ravage  the  land,  killing 
the  men  and  making  slaves  of  the  women.  He  must 
fly.  One  man  could  do  nothing  against  such  num- 
bers. He  could  not  leave  the  Princess  Charming 
behind  him:  she  would  fall  into  the  hands  of  the 
savages.  He  knew  that  she  had  trust  enough  in  him 
to  go  to  the  ends  of  the  earth  with  him.  He  had  a 
sort  of  dim  belief  that  she  loved  him.  What  should 
he  do?  Should  he  overcome  his  scruples  and  ask 


CliSAR’S  COLUMN. 


229 


the  lady  of  his  love  to  wed  him ; or  should  he  invite 
her  to  accompany  him  as  his  friend  and  sister? 
AVonld  it  not  be  mean  and  contemptible  to  take  ad- 
vantage of  her  distresses,  her  solitude  and  the  very 
danger  that  threatened  the  land,  and  thus  coerce  her 
into  a marriage  which  might  be  distasteful  to  her? 

“Now,  my  dear  Estella,”  I said,  with  a beating 
heart,  “thus  far  have  1 progressed  with  my  fairy 
tale ; but  I know  not  how  to  conclude  it.  Can  3’ou 
give  me  anj^  advice?” 

She  looked  up  at  me,  blushing,  but  an  arch  smile 
played  about  her  lips. 

“ Let  us  play  out  the  play,”  she  said.  “ I will  repre- 
sent the  Princess  Charming — a very  poor  representa- 
tive, I fear;  — and  you  will  take  the  part  of  the  good 
Knight  Weakhart — a part  which  I imagine  you  are 
especially  well  fitted  to  play.  Now,”  she  said,  “you 
know  the  old  rhyme : 

“ ‘ He  either  fears  his  fate  too  much, 

Or  his  desert  is  small, 

, Who  fears  to  put  it  to  the  touch, 

And  win  or  lose  it  all.’ 

“Therefore,  I would  advise  that  you  — acting  the 
Knight  Weakhart,  of  course — take  the  bolder  course 
and  propose  to  Princess  Charming  to  marry  you.” 

I began  to  see  through  her  device,  and  fell  on  my 
knees,  and  grasped  the  Princess’s  hand,  and  poured 
forth  my  love  in  rapturous  words,  that  I shall  not 
pretend  to  repeat,  even  to  you,  my  dear  brother. 
When  I had  paused,  for  want  of  breath,  Estella  said : 

“Now  I must,  I suppose,  act  the  part  of  Piincess 
Charming,  and  give  the  foolish  Knight  his  answer.” 

And  here  she  put  her  arms  around  my  neck  — I 


230 


CESAR’S  COLUMN, 


still  kneeling- -and  kissed  me  on  the  forehead,  and 
said,  laughing,  but  her  eyes  glistening  with  emotion: 

“ You  silly  Knight  Weakhart,you  are  well  named; 
and  really  I prefer  the  ogre  whose  head  you  Avere 
cruel  enough  to  cut  off,  or  even  one  of  those  hideous 
Vandals  you  are  trying  to  frighten  me  with.  What 
kind  of  a weak  heart  or  weak  head  have  you,  not  to 
know  that  a woman  never  shrinks  from  dependence 
upon  the  man  she  loves,  any  more  than  the  ivy  re- 
grets that  it  is  clinging  to  the  oak  and  cannot  stand 
alone?  A true  woman  must  weave  the  tendrils  of 
her  being  around  some  loved  object;  she  cannot 
stand  alone  any  more  than  the  ivy.  And  so — speak- 
ing, of  course,  for  the  Princess  Charming!  — I accept 
the  heart  and  hand  of  the  poor,  weak-headed  Knight 
Weakhart.” 

I folded  her  in  my  arms  and  began  to  give  her  all 
the  kisses  I had  been  hoarding  up  for  her  since  the 
first  day  we  met.  But  she  put  up  her  hand  playfully, 
and  pushed  me  back,  and  cried  out : 

“Stop!  stop!  the  play  is  over!” 

“No!  no!”  I replied,  “it  is  only  beginning;  and  it 
will  last  as  long  as  we  two  live.” 

Her  face  grew  serious  in  an  instant,  and  she  Avhis- 
pered : 

“Yes,  until  death  doth  us  part.” 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 
max’s  story— the  songstress. 

When  Max  came  home  the  next  evening  I observed 
that  his  face  wore  a very  joyous  expression — it  was 
indeed  radiant.  He  smiled  without  cause ; he  moved 
as  if  on  air.  At  the  supper  table  his  mother  noticed 
these  significant  appearances  also,  and  remarked 
upon  them,  smiling.  Max  laughed  and  said : 

“Yes,  I am  very  happy;  I will  tell  you  something 
surprising  after  supper.” 

When  the  evening  meal  was  finished  we  adjourned 
to  the  library.  Max  closed  the  doors  carefully,  and 
we  all  sat  down  in  a group  together.  Max  holding  the 
withered  hand  of  the  gentle  old  lady  in  his  own,  and 
Estella  and  I being  near  together. 

“Now,”  said  Max,  “I  am  about  to  tell  you  a long 
story.  It  may  not  be  as  interesting  to  you  as  it  is 
to  me ; but  you  are  not  to  interrupt  me.  And,  dear 
mother,”  he  said,  turning  to  her  with  a loving  look, 
“you  must  not  feel  hurt  that  I did  not  make  you  my 
confidante,  long  ere  this,  of  the  events  I am  about  to 
detail ; I did  not  really  know  myself  how  they  were 
going  to  end — I never  knew  until  to-day. 

“You  must  understand,”  he  continued,  “that, 
while  I have  been  living  under  my  own  name  else- 
where, but  in  disguise,  as  I have  told  you ; and  con- 
scious that  my  actions  were  the  subject  of  daily 
espionage,  it  was  my  habit  to  frequent  all  the  resorts 
where  men  congregate  in  great  numbers,  from  the 


232 


CESAR’S  COLUMN. 


highest  even  to  the  lowest.  I did  this  upon  principle : 
not  only  to  throw  my  enemies  olf  the  track  as  to  my 
real  character,  but  also  because  it  was  necessary  to 
me,  in  the  great  work  I had  undertaken,  that  I 
should  sound  the  whole  register  of  humanity,  down 
to  its  bass  notes. 

“ There  is,  in  one  of  the  poorer  portions  of  the  city, 
a great  music  hall,  or  ‘variety  theater,’  as  they 
call  it,  frequented  by  multitudes  of  the  middle  and 
lower  orders.  It  is  arranged,  indeed,  like  a huge 
theater,  but  the  audience  are  furnished  with  beer  and 
pipes,  and  little  tables,  all  for  an  insignificant 
charge;  and  there  they  sit,  amid  clouds  of  smoke, 
and  enjoy  the  singing,  dancing  and  acting  upon  the 
stage.  There  are  many  of  these  places  in  the  city, 
and  I am  familiar  with  them  all.  They  are  the  poor 
man’s  club  and  opera.  Of  course,  the  performers  are 
not  of  a high  order  of  talent,  and  generally  not  of  a 
high  order  of  morals;  but  occasionally  singers  or 
actors  of  real  merit  and  good  character  begin  on 
these  humble  boards,  and  afterwards  rise  to  great 
heights  in  their  professions. 

“One  night  I wandered  into  the  place  I speak  of, 
took  a seat  and  called  for  my  clay  pipe  and  pot  of 
beer.  I was  paying  little  attention  to  the  perform- 
ance on  the  stage,  for  it  was  worn  threadbare  with 
me ; but  was  studying  the  faces  of  the  crowd  around 
me,  when  suddenly  I was  attracted  by  the  sound  of 
the  sweetest  voice  I ever  heard.  I turned  to  the 
stage,  and  there  stood  a young  girl,  but  little  more 
than  a child,  holding  her  piece  of  music  in  her  hand, 
and  singing,  to  the  thrumming  accompaniment  of  a 
wheezy  piano,  a sweet  old  ballad.  The  girl  was  slight 
of  frame  and  small,  not  more  than  about  five  feet 


CJi^SAR’S  COLUMN. 


233 


high.  She  was  timid,  for  that  was  her  first  appear- 
ance, as  the  play-bills  stated ; and  the  hand  trembled 
that  held  the  music.  I did  not  infer  that  she  had  had 
much  training  as  a musician ; but  the  voice  was  the 
perfection  of  nature’s  workmanship ; and  the  singing 
was  like  the  airy  warbling  of  children  in  the  happy 
unconsciousness  of  the  household,  or  the  gushing 
music  of  birds  welcoming  the  red  light  of  the  dawn- 
ing day  while  yet  the  dew  and  the  silence  lie  over  all 
nature.  A dead  quiet  had  crept  over  the  astonished 
house ; but  at  the  close  of  the  first  stanza  a thunder- 
ous burst  of  applause  broke  forth  that  shook  the 
whole  building.  It  was  pleasant  to  see  how  the 
singer  brightened  into  confidence,  as  a child  might, 
at  the  sound ; the  look  of  anxiety  left  the  sweet  face ; 
the  eyes  danced;  the  yellow  curls  shook  with  half- 
suppressed  merriment;  and  when  the  applause  had 
subsided,  and  the  thrumming  of  the  old  piano  began 
again,  there  wms  an  abandon  in  the  rush  of  lovely 
melody  which  she  poured  forth,  with  delicate  instinct- 
ive touches,  fine  cadences  and  joyous,  bird-like  warb- 
lings,  never  dreamed  of  by  the  composer  of  the  old 
tune.  The  vast  audience  was  completely  carried 
away.  The  voice  entered  into  their  slumbering  hearts 
like  a revelation,  and  walked  about  in  them  like  a 
singing  spirit  in  halls  of  light.  They  rose  to  their 
feet ; hats  were  fiung  in  the  air ; a shower  of  silver 
pieces,  and  even  some  of  gold  — a veritable  Danae 
shower — fell  all  around  the  singer,  while  the  shouting 
and  clapping  of  hands  were  deafening.  The  debu- 
tante was  a success.  The  singer  had  passed  the  or- 
deal. She  had  entered  into  the  promised  land  of  fame 
and  wealth.  I looked  at  the  programme,  as  did  hun- 
dreds of  othei’s;it  read  simply;  ‘A Solo  by  Miss  Chris- 


234 


CESAR'S  COLUMN. 


tina  Carlson— first  appearance.^  The  name  was 
Scandinavian,  and  the  appearance  of  the  g;irl  con- 
firmed that  supposition.  She  evidently  belonged  to 
the  great  race  of  Nilsson  and  Lind.  Her  hair,  a mass 
of  rebellious,  short  curls,  was  of  the  peculiar  shade  of 
light  yellow  common  among  that  people;  it  looked  as 
if  the  xanthous  locks  of  the  old  Gauls,  as  described 
by  Caesar,  had  been  faded  out,  in  the  long  nights  and 
the  ice  and  snow  of  the  Northland,  to  this  paler  hue. 
But  what  struck  me  most,  in  the  midst  of  those  con- 
taminated surroundings,  was  the  air  of  innocence 
and  purity  and  light-heartedness  which  shone  over 
every  part  of  her  person,  down  to  her  little  feet,  and 
out  to  her  very  finger  tips.  There  was  not  the  slight- 
est suggestion  of  art,  or  craft,  or  double-dealing,  or 
thought  within  a thought,  or  even  vanity.  She  was 
delighted  to  think  she  had  passed  the  dreadful  am- 
buscade of  a first  appearance  successfully,  and  that 
employment  — and  bread  — were  assured  for  the 
future.  That  seemed  to  be  the  only  triumph  that 
danced  in  her  bright  eyes. 

“ ‘ Who  is  she?’  ‘ Where  did  she  come  from?’  were 
the  questions  I heard,  in  whispers,  all  around  me; 
for  many  of  the  audience  were  Germans,  Frenchmen 
and  Jews,  all  passionate  lovers  of  music,  and  to  them 
the  ushering  in  of  a new  star  in  the  artistic  firma- 
ment is  equal  to  a new  world  born  before  the  eyes  of 
an  astronomer. 

“When  she  left  the  stage  there  was  a rush  of  the 
privileged  artists  for  the  green-room.  I followed 
them.  There  I found  the  little  singer  standing  by 
the  side  of  a middle-aged,  care-worn  woman,  evi- 
dently her  mother,  for  she  was  carefully  adjusting  a 
poor,  thin  cloak  over  the  girl’s  shoulders,  while  a 


CJUSAR'S  COLUMN. 


235 


swarm  of  devotees,  including  many  debauched  old 
gallants,  Crowded  around,  pouring  forth  streams  of 
compliments,  which  Christina  heard  with  pleased 
face  and  downcast  eyes. 

“I  kept  in  the  background,  watching  the  scene. 
There  was  something  about  this  child  that  moved 
me  strangely.  True,  I tried  to  pooh-pooh  away  the 
sentiment,  and  said  to  myself:  ‘Why  bother  your 
head  about  her?  She  is  one  of  the  “refuse;”  she  will 
go  down  into  the  dark  ditch  with  the  rest,  baseness 
to  baseness  linked.’  But  when  I looked  at  the 
modest,  happy  face,  the  whole  poise  of  the  body — 
for  every  fiber  of  the  frame  of  man  or  woman  par- 
takes of  the  characteristics  of  the  soul — I could  not 
hold  these  thoughts  steadily  in  my  mind.  And  I 
said  to  myself : ‘ If  she  is  as  pure  as  she  looks  I will 
watch  over  her.  She  ■will  need  a friend  in  these 
scenes.  Here  success  is  more  dangerous  than 
misery.’ 

“And  so,  •v\'hen  Christina  and  her  mother  left  the 
theater,  I followed  them,  but  at  a respectful  distance. 
They  called  no  carriage,  and  there  were  no  cars  go- 
ing their  way;  but  they  trudged  along,  and  I fol- 
lowed them;  a weary  distance  it  was — through  nar- 
row and  dirty  streets  and  back  alleys — until  at  last 
they  stopped  at  the  door  of  a miserable  tenement- 
house.  They  entered,  and  like  a shadow'  I crept 
noiselessly  behind  them.  Up,  up  they  went;  fioor 
after  fioor,  until  the  topmost  garret  was  reached. 
Christina  gave  a glad  shout;  a door  fiew  open; 
she  entered  a room  that  seemed  to  be  bursting  with 
children;  and  I could  hear  the  broader  voice  of  a 
man,  mingled  with  ejaculations  of  childish  delight, 
as  Christina  threw  down  her  gifts  of  gold  and  silver 


236 


C^SAB’S  COLUMN. 


on  the  table,  and  told  in.  tones  of  girlish  ecstasy  ot 
her  great  triumph,  calling  ever  and  anon  upon  her 
mother  to  vouch  for  the  truth  of  her  wonderful  story. 
And  then  I had  but  time  to  shrink  back  into  a cor- 
ner, when  a stout,  broad-shouldered  man,  dressed  like 
a workingman,  rushed  headlong  down  the  stairs,  with 
a large  basket  in  his  hand,  to  the  nearest  eating- 
house;  and  he  soon  returned  bearing  cooked  meats 
and  bread  and  butter,  and  bottles  of  beer,  and 
pastry,  the  whole  heaped  up  and  running  over  the 
sides  of  the  basket.  And  oh,  what  a tumult  of  joy 
there  was  in  that  room ! I stood  close  to  the  closed 
door  and  listened.  There  was  the  hurry-scurry  of 
many  feet,  little  and  big,  as  they  set  the  table;  the 
quick  commands;  the  clatter  of  plates  and  knives 
and  forks ; the  constant  chatter ; the  sounds  of  help- 
ing each  other  and  of  eating ; and  then  Christina,  her 
mouth,  it  seemed  to  me,  partly  filled  with  bread  and 
butter,  began  to  give  her  father  some  specimens  of 
the  cadenzas  that  had  brought  down  the  house ; and 
the  little  folks  clapped  their  hands  with  delight,  and 
the  mother  thanked  God  fervently  that  their  poverty 
and  their  sufferings  were  at  an  end. 

“I  felt  like  a guilty  thing,  standing  there,  sharing 
in  the  happiness  to  which  I ha,d  not  been  invited; 
and  at  last  I stole  down  the  stairs,  and  into  the 
street.  I need  not  say  that  all  this  had  vastly  in- 
creased my  interest  in  the  pretty  singer.  This  pict- 
ure of  poverty  associated  with  genius,  and  abun- 
dant love  shining  over  all,  was  very  touching. 

“The  next  day  I set  a detective  agency  to  work 
to  find  out  all  they  could  about  the  girl  and  her 
famil3^  One  of  their  men  called  upon  me  that  even- 
ing, with  a report.  He  had  visited  the  place  and 


CESAR'S  COLUMN. 


237 


made  inquiries  of  the  neighbors,  of  the  shop-keepers, 
the  police,  etc.,  and  this  is  what  he  had  found  out: 

“There  was  no  person  in  the  building  of  the  name 
of  ‘Carlson,’  but  in  the  garret  I had  described  a man 
resided  named  ‘Carl  Jansen,’  a Swede  by  birth,  a 
blacksmith  by  trade,  and  a very  honest,  worthy 
man  and  good  workman,  but  excessively  poor.  He 
had  lived  for  some  years  in  New  York ; he  had  a large 
family  of  children ; his  wife  took  in  washing,  and  thus 
helped  to  fill  the  many  greedy  little  mouths ; the  old- 
est girl  was  named  Christina;  she  was  seventeen 
years  of  age;  she  had  attended  the  public  schools, 
and  of  late  years  had  worked  at  embroidery,  her 
earnings  going  into  the  common  stock.  She  was  a 
good,  amiable  girl,  and  highly  spoken  of  by  every 
one  who  knew  her.  She  had  attended  Sunday 
school,  and  there  it  had  been  discovered  that  she  pos- 
sessed a remarkably  fine  voice,  and  she  had  been 
placed  in  the  choir;  and,  after  a time,  at  the  sugges- 
tion of  some  of  the  teachers,  her  mother  had  taken 
her  to  the  manager  of  the  variety  hall,  who  was  so 
pleased  with  her  singing  that  he  gave  her  a chance  to 
appear  on  the  boards  of  his  theater.  She  had  made 
her  debut  last  night,  and  the  whole  tenement-house, 
and,  in  fact,  the  whole  alley  and  neighboring  streets, 
were  talking  that  morning  of  her  great  success; 
and,  strange  to  say,  they  all  rejoiced  in  the  brighten- 
ing fortunes  of  the  poor  family. 

“‘Then,’  I said  to  myself,  ‘Carlson  was  merely  a 
stage  name,  probably  suggested  by  the  manager  of 
the  variety  show.’ 

“I  determined  to  find  out  more  about  the  pretty 
Christina.” 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

max’s  story  continued  — the  journeyman 

PRINTER. 

^^You  may  be  sure  that  that  night  the  public 
took  the  variety  theater  by  storm;  every  seat  was 
filled ; the  very  aisles  were  crowded  with  men  stand- 
ing; the  beer  flowed  in  streams  and  the  tobacco- 
smoke  rose  in  clouds ; the  establishment  was  doing  a 
splendid  business.  Christina  was  down  on  the  bills 
for  three  solos.  Each  one  was  a triumph  — encore 
followed  encore  — and  when  the  performance  closed 
the  little  singer  was  called  before  the  curtain  and 
another  Danae  shower  of  silver  and  gold,  and  some 
bouquets,  fell  around  her.  When  I went  behind  the 
scenes  I found  the  happy  girl  surrounded  by  even  a 
larger  circle  of  admirers  than  the  night  before,  each 
one  sounding  her  praises.  I called  the  manager 
aside.  He  knew  me  well  as  a rich  young  spendthrift. 
I said  to  him : 

^ How  much  a week  do  you  pay  Christina?  ’ 

promised  her,’  said  he,  ^flve  dollars  a week; 
but,’  and  here  he  looked  at  me  suspiciously,  have 
determined  to  double  it.  I shall  pay  her  ten.’ 

‘^^That  is  not  enough,’  I said;  ^you  will  And  in 
her  a gold  mine.  You  must  pay  her  fifty.’ 

^‘^My  dear  sir,’  he  said,  H cannot  afford  it.  I 
really  cannot.’ 

^ AVell,’  said  I,  H will  speak  to  Jobson  [a  rival  in 
business];  he  will  pay  her  a hundred.  I saw  him  here 

to-night.  He  has  already  heard  of  her.’ 

238 


CJISAB^S  COLUMN. 


239 


“‘But,’  said  he,  ‘she  has  contracted  with  me  to 
sing  for  three  months,  at  five  dollars  per  week; 
and  I have  permitted  her  to  take  home  all  the 
money  that  was  thrown  on  the  stage  last  night 
a,nd  to-night.  Now  I shall  pay  her  ten.  Is  not  that 
liberal  ? ’ 

“‘Liberal!’  I said;  ‘it  is  hoggish.  This  girl  has 
made  you  two  hundred  dollars  extra  profit  to-night. 
She  is  under  age.  She  cannot  make  a binding  con- 
ti-act.  And  the  money  that  was  thrown  to  her 
belongs  to  her  and  not  to  you.  Come,  what  do  you 
say — shall  I speak  to  Jobson?  ’ 

“ ‘ AVhat  interest  have  you  in  this  girl  ? ’ he  asked, 
sullenly. 

“‘That  is  no  matter  of  yours,’  I replied;  ‘if  you 
will  not  pay  her  what  I demand,  to-morrow  night  she 
will  sing  for  Jobson,  and  your  place  will  be  empty.’ 

“‘Well,’  said  he,  ‘I  will  pay  it;  but  I don’t  see 
what  right  you  have  to  interfere  in  my  business.’ 

“ ‘That  is  not  all,’  I said;  ‘go  to  her  now'  and  tell 
her  you  have  made  a good  deal  of  money  to-night, 
by  her  help,  and  ask  her  to  accept  fifty  dollars  from 
you  as  a present;  and  tell  her,  in  my  hearing,  that 
she  is  to  receive  fifty  dollars  a week  hereafter.  The 
family  are  very  poor,  and  need  immediate  help.  And 
besides,  if  she  does  not  know  that  she  is  to  receive  a 
liberal  salary,  when  the  agents  of  the  other  houses 
come  for  her,  she  may  leave  you.  Fair  play  is  the 
wisest  thing.’ 

“He  thought  a moment;  he  was  very  angry  with 
me;  but  finally  he  swallow'ed  his  wrath,  and  pushed 
his  way  through  the  crowd  to  where  Christina  stood, 
and  said  to  her  with  many  a bow  and  smile : 

“ ‘ Miss  Christina,  your  charming  voice  has  greatly 


MO 


CESAR’S  COLUMN. 


increased  iny  business  to-night ; and  I think  it  only 
fair  to  give  you  a part  of  my  profits — here  are  fifty 
dollars.’ 

“Christina  was  delighted — she  took  the  money— 
she  had  never  seen  so  large  an  amount  before — she 
handed  it  to  her  mother;  and  both  were  profuse  in 
their  thanks,  while  the  crowd  vigorously  applauded 
the  good  and  generous  manager. 

“‘But  this  is  not  all,’  he  continued;  ‘instead  of 
five  dollars  per  week,  the  sum  we  had  agreed  upon, 
for  your  singing,  I shall  pay  you  hereafter  fifty 
dollars  a week ! ’ 

“There  was  still  greater  applause;  Christina’s 
eyes  swam  with  happiness ; her  mother  began  to  cry ; 
Christina  seized  the  manager’s  hand,  and  the  old 
scamp  posed,  as  he  received  the  thanks  of  those 
present,  as  if  all  this  were  the  outcome  of  his  own 
generosity,  and  as  if  he  were  indeed  the  best  and 
noblest  of  men.  I have  no  doubt  that  if  I had 
not  interfered  he  would  have  kept  her  on  the  five 
dollars  a week,  and  the  silly  little  soul  would  have 
been  satisfied. 

“I  followed  them  home.  I again  listened  to  their 
happiness.  And  then  I heard  the  mother  tell  the 
father  that  they  must  both  go  out  to-morrow  and 
find  a better  place  to  lodge  in,  for  they  were  rich  now. 
A bright  thought  hashed  across  my  mind,  and  I 
hastened  -away. 

“ The  next  morning,  at  daybreak,  I hurried  to  the 
same  detective  I had  employed  the  day  before;  he 
was  a shrewd,  but  not  unkindly  fellow.  I explained 
to  him  my  plans,  and  we  went  out  together.  We 
took  a carriage  and  drove  rapidly  from  place  to 
plape ; he  really  seemed  pleased  to  find  himself  en- 


CA'JSMl'S  CO! A' MX. 


211 


gaged,  for  once  in  his  life,  in  a good  action.  What 
1 did  will  be  revealed  as  I go  on  with  this  story. 

“At  half  past  eight  o’clock  that  morning- the 
Jansen  family  had  finished  their  breakfast  and 
talked  over  and  over  again,  for  the  tw^entieth  time, 
their  wonderful  turn  of  fortune,  and  all  its  inci- 
dents, including  repeated  counting  of  their  marvel- 
ous hoard  of  money.  Then  Christina  w'as  left  in 
charge  of  the  children,  and  the  father  and  mother  sal- 
lied forth  to  look  for  a new  residence.  The  neighbors 
crowded  around  to  congratulate  them ; and  they 
explained, — for,  kindly-hearted  souls,  they  did  not 
wish  their  old  companions  in  poverty  to  think  that 
they  had  willingly  fled  from  them,  at  the  first  ap- 
proach of  good  fortune, — they  explained  that  they 
must  get  a new  home  nearer  to  the  theater,  for  Chris- 
tina’s sake;  and  that  they  proposed  that  she 
should  have  teachers  in  music  and  singing  and  act- 
ing; for  she  was  now'  the  bread-winner  of  the  family, 
and  they  hoped  that  some  day  she  would  shine  in 
opera  with  the  great  artists. 

“Did  the  neighbors  know  of  any  place,  suitable  for 
them,  w^hich  they  could  rent  ? 

“No,  they  did  not;  they  rarely  passed  out  of 
their  own  poor  neighborhood. 

“But  here  a plainly  dressed  man,  who  looked  like 
a workman,  and  who  had  been  listening  to  the  con- 
versation, spoke  up  and  said  that  he  had  observed, 
only  that  morning,  a bill  of  ‘ To  Rent  ’ upon  a very 
neat  little  house,  only  a few  blocks  from  the  theater ; 
and,  as  he  was  going  that  way,  he  w'ould  be  glad  to 
show  them  the  place.  They  thanked  him;  and,  ex- 
plaining to  him  that  the  business  of  renting  houses 
W'as  something  new  to  them,  for  heretofore  they  had 


242 


CESAR'S  COLUMN. 


lived  in  one  or  two  rooms — they  might  have  add- 
ed, very  near  the  roof — they  walked  off  with  the 
stranger.  He  led  them  into  a pleasant,  quiet,  re- 
spectable neighborhood,  and  at  last  stopped  before 
a small,  neat  three-story  house,  with  a little  garden 
in  front  and  another  larger  one  in  the  rear. 

“ ‘ What  a pretty  place ! ’ said  the  mother;  ‘but  I 
fear  the  rent  will  be  too  high  for  us.’ 

“‘Well,  there  is  no  harm  in  inquiring,’  said  the 
workman,  and  he  rang  the  bell. 

“A  young  man,  dressed  like  a mechanic,  answered 
the  summons.  He  invited  them  in;  the  house  was 
comfortably,  but  not  richly  furnished.  They  went 
through  it  and  into  the  garden ; they  were  delighted 
with  everything.  And  then  came  the  question  they 
feared  to  ask : What  was  the  rent? 

“‘Well,’  said  the  young  man,  pleasantly,  ‘I  must 
explain  my  position.  I am  a printer  by  trade.  My 
name  is  Francis  Montgomery.  I own  this  house. 
It  was  left  to  me  by  my  parents.  It  is  all  I have.  I 
am  not  married.  I cannot  live  in  it  alone;  it  is  too 
big  for  that ; and,  besides,  I think  I should  get  some 
income  out  of  it,  for  there  are  the  taxes  to  be  paid. 
But  I do  not  want  to  leave  the  house.  I was  born 
and  raised  here.  I thought  that  if  I could  get  some 
pleasant  family  to  take  it,  who  would  let  me  retain 
one  of  the  upper  rooms,  and  would  board  me,  I 
would  rent  the  house  for’ — here  he  mentioned  a 
ridiculously  low  price.  ‘I  do  not  want,’  he  added, 
‘any  expensive  fare.  I am  content  to  take  “pot- 
luck”  with  the  family.  I like  your  looks;  and  if  you 
want  the  house,  at  the  terms  I have  named,  I think 
we  can  get  along  pleasantly  together.  I may  not  be 
here  all  the  time.’ 


CJUSAR'l^  COLUMN. 


243 


“The  offer  was  accepted;  the  workman  was  dis- 
missed with  thanks.  That  afternoon  the  whole  family 
moved  in.  The  delight  of  Christina,  was  unbounded. 
There  was  one  room  which  I had  foreseen  would  be 
assigned  to  her,  and  that  I had  adorned  with  some 
flowers.  She  was  introduced  to  me ; we  shook  hands ; 
and  I was  soon  a member  of  the  family.  What  a 
curious  flock  of  little  white-heads,  of  all  ages,  they 
were — sturdy,  rosy,  chubby,  healthy,  merry,  and 
loving  toward  one  another.  They  brought  very 
little  of  their  poor  furniture  with  them;  it  was  too 
shabby  for  the  new  surroundings;  they  gave  it 
away  to  their  former  neighbors.  But  I noticed  that 
the  father  carefully  carried  into  the  kitchen  an  old 
chair,  time-worn  and  venerable ; the  back  was  gone, 
and  it  was  nothing  but  a stool.  The  next  day  I ob- 
served a pudgy  little  boy,  not  quite  three  years 
old  (the  father’s  favorite,  as  I discovered),  driving 
wrought  nails  into  it  with  a little  iron  hammer. 

“ ‘ Stop ! stop ! my  man ! ’ I exclaimed ; ‘ you  must 
not  drive  nails  in  the  furniture.’ 

“I  looked  at  the  chair:  the  seat  of  it  was  a mass 
of  nail-holes.  And  then  Christina,  noticing  my  looks 
of  perplexity,  said : 

“ ‘ Last  Christmas  we  were  very,  very  poor.  Papa 
was  out  of  work.  We  could  scarcely  get  enough  to 
eat.  Papa  saw  the  preparations  in  the  store  win- 
dows for  Christmas — the  great  heaps  of  presents; 
and  he  saw  the  busy  parents  hurrying  about  buying 
gifts  for  their  children,  and  he  felt  very  sad  that  he 
could  not  give  us  any  presents,  not  even  to  little  Ole, 
whom  he  loves  so  much.  So  he  went  into  the  black- 
smith shop  of  a friend,  and,  taking  up  a piece  of  iron 
that  had  been  thrown  on  the  floor,  he  made  that 


244 


CASSAft'S  COLUMN. 


little  hammer  Ole  has  in  his  hand,  and  a number  of 
wrought  nails;  and  he  brought  them  home  and 
showed  Ole  how  to  use  the  hammer  and  drive  the 
nails  into  that  chair;  and  when  he  had  driven  them 
all  into  the  wood,  papa  would  pry  them  out  for  him, 
and  the  work  would  commence  all  over  again,  and 
Ole  was  happy  all  day  long.’ 

“ 1 found  my  eyes  growing  damp ; for  I was  think- 
ing of  the  riotous  profusion  of  the  rich,  and  of  the 
costly  toys  they  heap  upon  their  children;  and  the 
contrast  of  this  poor  man,  unable  to  buy  a single 
cheap  toy  for  his  family,  and  giving  his  chubby  boy 
a rude  iron  hammer  and  nails,  to  pound  into  that 
poor  stool,  as  a substitute  for  doll  or  rocking-horse, 
was  very  touching.  And  then  I looked  with  some 
wonder  at  the  straightforward  honesty  of  the  little 
maid,  who,  in  the  midst  of  the  new,  fine  house,  was 
not  ashamed  to  talk  so  frankly  of  the  dismal  wretch- 
edness and  want  which  a few  days  before  had  been 
the  lot  of  the  family.  She  saw  nothing  to  be  ashamed 
of  ill  poverty;  while  by  meaner  and  more  sordid 
souls  it  is  regarded  as  the  very  abasement  of  shame 
and  crime. 

“ Ole  was  pounding  away  at  his  nails. 

“ ‘ Does  he  not  hurt  himself  sometimes?  ’ I asked. 

“ ‘Oh,  yes,’  she  said,  laughing;  ‘at  first  he  would 
hit  his  little  fingers  many  a hard  rap ; and  he  w'oiild 
start  to  cry,  but  papa  would  tell  him  that  “men 
never  cry;”  and  then  it  was  funny  to  see  how  he 
would  purse  up  his  little  red  mouth,  while  the  tears 
of  pain  ran  down  from  his  big  round  eyes,  but  not  a 
sound  more  would  escape  him.’ 

“And  I said  to  myself:  ‘ This  is  the  stuff  of  which 
was  formed  the  masterful  race  that  overran  the 


CjESAIVS  column. 


245 


world  under  the  names  of  a dozen  different  peoples. 
Ice  and  snow  made  the  tough  fiber,  mental  and 
physical,  which  the  hot  sun  of  southern  climes  after- 
ward melted  into  the  viciousness  of  more  luxurious 
nations.  Man  is  scourged  into  greatness  by  adver- 
sity, and  leveled  into  mediocrity  by  prosperity.  This 
little  fellow,  whose  groans  die  between  his  set  teeth, 
has  in  him  the  blood  of  the  Vikings.’ 

“There  was  one  thing  I did  out  of  policy,  which 
yet  went  very  much  against  my  inclinations,  in  deal- 
ing with  such  good  and  honest  people.  I knew  that 
in  all  probability  I had  been  traced  by  the  spies  of 
the  Oligarchy  to  this  house ; they  would  regard  it  of 
course  as  a crazy  adventure,  and  would  naturally 
assign  it  to  base  purposes.  But  it  would  not  do  for 
me  to  appear  altogether  different,  even  in  this  family, 
from  the  character  I had  given  myself  out  to  be,  of  a 
reckless  and  dissipated  man;  for  the  agents  of  my 
enemies  might  talk  to  the  servant,  or  to  members  of 
the  household.  And  so  the  second  night  I came  home 
to  supper  apparently  drunk.  It  was  curious  to  see 
the  looks  of  wonder,  sorrow  and  sympathy  ex- 
changed between  the  members  of  the  family  as  I 
talked  ramblingly  and  incoherently  at  the  table. 
But  this  feint  served  one  purpose ; it  broke  down  the 
barrier  between  landlord  and  tenants.  Indeed,  para- 
doxical as  it  may  seem,  I think  they  thought  more  of 
me  because  of  my  supposed  infirmity;  for  ‘pity  is 
akin  to  love;’  and  it  is  hard  for  the  tenderer  feelings 
of  the  heart  to  twine  about  one  who  is  so  strong  and 
flawless  that  he  demands  no  sympathy  or  forbear- 
ance at  our  hands.  I ceased  to  be  the  rich  owner  of 
a house — I was  simply  one  of  themselves;  a foolish 
journeyman  printer;  given  to  drink,  but  withal  a 


246 


GJESAR'S  COLUMN. 


kindly  and  pleasant  man.  Two  days  afterwards, 
Christina,  who  had  looked  at  me  several  times  with  a 
troubled  brow,  took  me  aside  and  tried  to  persuade 
me  to  join  a temperance  society  of  which  her  father 
was  a member.  It  was  very  pretty  and  touching  to 
see  the  motherly  way  in  which  the  little  woman  took 
my  hand,  and  coaxed  me  to  give  up  my  vice,  and 
told  me,  with  eloquent  earnestness,  all  the  terrible 
consequences  which  would  flow  from  it.  I was  not 
foolish  enough  to  think  that  any  tender  sentiment 
influenced  her.  It  was  simply  her  natural  goodness, 
and  her  pity  for  a poor  fellow,  almost  now  one  of 
their  own  family,  who  was  going  to  destruction. 
And  indeed,  if  I had  been  a veritable  drunkard,  she 
would  have  turned  me  from  my  evil  courses.  But  I 
assured  her  that  I would  try  to  reform ; that  I would 
drink  less  than  previously,  and  that,  on  the  next  New 
Year’s  day,  I might  be  able  to  summon  up  courage 
enough  to  go  with  her  father  to  his  society,  and 
pledge  myself  to  total  abstinence.  She  received  these 
promises  with  many  expressions  of  pleasure ; and,  al- 
though I had  to  keep  up  my  false  character,  I never 
afterwards  wounded  her  feelings  by  appearing  any- 
thing more  than  simply  elevated  in  spirit  by  drink. 

“They  were  a very  kind, gentle,  good  people;  quite 
unchanged  by  prosperity  and  unaffected  in  their 
manners.  Even  in  their  poverty  the  children  had  all 
looked  clean  and  neat;  now  they  were  prettily,  but 
not  expensively,  dressed.  Their  religious  devotion 
was  great;  and  I endeared  myself  to  them  by  some- 
times joining  in  their  household  prayers.  And  I said 
to  myself;  If  there  is  no  God  — as  the  miserable 
philosophers  tell  us — there  surely  ought  to  be  one, 
if  for  nothing  else  than  to  listen  to  the  supplications 


C/ESAll’S  COLUMN. 


21:7 


of  these  loving  and  grateful  hearts.  And  I could  not 
believe  that  such  tender  devotions  could  ascend  and 
be  lost  forever  in  empty  and  unresponsive  space. 
The  impulse  of  prayer,  it  seems  to  me,  presupposes  a 
God.” 


CHAPTEK  XXV. 

max’s  story  continued  — THE  DARK  SHADOW. 

“But  a cloud  was  moving  up  to  cover  the  fair 
face  of  this  pleasant  prospect ; and  yet  the  sun  was 
shining  and  the  birds  singing. 

“ Christina  was  very  bnsy  during  the  day  with  her 
teachers.  She  loved  music  and  was  anxious  to  excel. 
She  had  her  lessons  on  the  piano ; she  improved  her 
mind  by  a judicious  course  of  reading,  in  which  I 
helped  her  somewhat;  she  went  twice  a week  to  a 
grand  Italian  maestro,  who  perfected  her  in  her  sing- 
ing. And  she  took  long  walks  to  the  poor  neighbor- 
hood where  she  had  formerly  lived,  to  visit  the  sick 
and  wretched  among  her  old  acquaintances,  and  she 
never  left  them  empty-handed. 

“At  the  theater  she  grew  more  and  more  popular. 
Even  the  rudest  of  the  audience  recognized  instinct- 
ively in  her  the  goodness  which  they  themselves 
lacked.  Everj'^  song  was  an  ovation.  Her  praises 
began  to  resound  in  the  newspapers;  and  she  had 
already  received  advances  from  the  manager  of  one 
of  the  grand  opera-houses.  A bright  future  opened 
before  her — a vista  of  light  and  music  and  wealth 
and  delight. 

“She  did  not  escape,  however,  the  unpleasant  in- 
cidents natural  to  such  a career.  Her  mother  ac- 
companied her  to  every  performance,  and  was,  in  so 
far,  a shield  to  her;  but  she  was  beset  with  visitors 
at  the  house ; she  was  annoyed  by  men  who  stopped 

248 


C\E8Alt’S  COLUMN. 


249 


and  claimed  acquaintance  with  liei*  on  the  streets; 
she  received  many  gifts,  flowers,  fruit,  jewelry,  and 
all  the  other  tempting  sweet  nothings  which  it  is 
thought  bewitch  the  heart  of  frail  woman.  But  they 
had  no  effect  upon  her.  Only  goodness  seemed  to 
cling  to  her,  and  evil  fell  far  off  from  her.  You  may 
set  two  plants  side  by  side  in  the  same  soil — one 
will  draw  only  bitterness  and  poison  from  the  earth  - 
while  the  other  will  gather,  from  the  same  nurture, 
nothing  but  sweetness  and  perfume. 

‘‘  ‘ For  virtue,  as  it  never  will  be  moved, 

Though  lewdiiess  court  it  in  a shape  of  heaven; 

So  lust,  though  to  a radiant  angel  linked, 

Will  sate  itself  in  a celestial  bed. 

And  prey  on  garbage.’ 

“Among  the  men  who  pestered  Christina  with 
their  attentions  was  a young  fellow  named  Nathan 
Brederhagan,  the  son  of  a rich  widow.  He  was  one 
of*  those  weak  and  shallow  brains  to  whom  wealth 
becomes  only  a vehicle  in  which  to  ride  to  destriy- 
tion.  He  was  in  reality  all  that  I pretended  to  be — a 
reckless,  drunken,  useless  spendthrift,  with  no  higher 
aim  in  life  than  wine  and  woman.  He  spent  his  days 
in  vanity  and  his  nights  in  debauchery.  Across  the 
clouded  portal  of  this  fool’s  brain  came,  like  a vision, 
the  beautiful,  gentle,  gifted  Christina.  She  was  a 
new  toy,  the  most  charming  he  had  ever  seen,  and, 
like  a child,  he  must  possess  it.  And  so  he  began  a 
series  of  persecutions.  He  followed  her  everywhere; 
he  fastened  himself  upon  her  at  the  theater ; he  show- 
ered all  sorts  of  gifts  on  her ; and,  when  he  found  she 
returned  his  presents,  and  that  she  refused  or  re- 
sisted all  his  advances,  he  grew  so  desperate  that  he 
at  last  offered  to  marry  her,  although  with  a con- 


'Jb^) 


VJi'tiAK’ii  COLUMN. 


sciousness  that  he  was  making  a most  heroic  and 
extraordinary  sacrifice  of  himself  in  doing  so.  But 
even  this  condescension — to  his  unbounded  aston- 
ishment— she  declined  with  thanks.  And  then  the 
silly  little  fool  grew  more  desperate  than  ever,  and 
battered  up  his  poor  brains  with  strong  drink,  and 
wept  in  maudlin  fashion  to  his  acquaintances.  At 
last  one  of  these — a fellow  of  the  same  kidney,  but 
with  more  enterprise  than  himself — said  to  him: 
‘ Why  don’t  you  carry  her  off  ?’  Nathan  opened 
his  eyes  very  wide,  stopped  his  sniffling  and  blubber- 
ing, and  made  up  his  mind  to  follow  this  sage  advice. 
To  obtain  the  necessary  nerve  for  such  a prodigious 
undertaking  he  fired  up  with  still  more  whisky; 
and  when  the  night  came  he  was  crazy  with  drink. 
Obtaining  a carriage  and  another  drunken  fool  to 
help  him,  he  stationed  himself  beside  the  pavement, 
in  the  quiet  street  where  Christina  lived,  and  but  a 
few  doors  distant  from  her  house;  and  then,  as  she 
came  along  with  her  mother,  he  seized  upon  her, 
while  his  companion  grasped  Mrs.  Jansen.  He  be- 
gan to  drag  Christina  toward  the  carriage ; but  the 
young  girl  was  stronger  than  he  was,  and  not  only 
resisted  him,  but  began  to  shriek,  ably  seconded  by 
her  mother,  until  the  street  rang.  The  door  of  their 
house  flew  open,  and  Mr.  Jansen,  who  had  recog- 
nized the  voices  of  his  wife  and  daughter,  was  hurry- 
ing to  their  rescue ; whereupon  the  little  villain  cried 
in  a tone  of  high  tragedy,  ‘ Then  die ! ’ and  stabbed 
her  in  the  throat  with  a little  dagger  he  carried.  He 
turned  and  sprang  into  the  carriage ; while  the  poor 
girl,  who  had  become  suddenly  silent,  staggered  and 
fell  into  the  arms  of  her  father. 

“It  chanced  that  I was  absent  from  the  house 


CjESAR^S  column. 


251 


that  night,  on  some  business  of  the  Brotherhood, 
and  the  next  morning  I breakfasted  in  another  part 
of  the  city,  at  a restaurant.  I had  scarcely  begun 
my  meal  when  a phonograph,  which,  in  a loud  voice, 
was  proclaiming  the  news  of  the  day  before  for  the 
entertainment  of  the  guests,  cried  out : 

Probable  Murder— A Young  Girl  Stabbed. 

Last  night,  at  about  half-past  eleven,  on  Seward  Street,  near 
Fifty-first  Avenue,  a young  girl  was  assaulted  and  brutally 
stabbed  in  the  throat  by  one  of  two  men.  The  girl  is  a singer 
employed  in  Peter  Bingham’s  variety  theater,  a few  blocks  distant 
from  the  place  of  the  attack.  She  was  accompanied  by  her  mother, 
and  they  were  returning  on  foot  from  the  theater,  where  she  had 
been  singing. , The  man  had  a carriage  ready,  and  while  one  of 
them  held  her  mother,  the  other  tried  to  force  the  young  girl  into 
the  carriage;  it  was  plainly  the  purpose  of  the  men  to  abduct 
her.  She  resisted,  however;  whereupon  the  ruffian  who  had  hold 
of  her,  hearing  the  footsteps  of  persons  approaching,  and  seeing 
that  he  could  not  carry  her  off,  drew  a knife  and  stabbed  her  in 
the  throat,  and  escaped  with  his  companion  in  the  carriage.  The 
girl  was  carried  into  her  father’s  house.  No.  1252  Seward  Street, 
and  the  distinguished  surgeon.  Dr.  Hemnip,  was  sent  for.  He  pro- 
nounced the  wound  probably  fatal.  The  young  girl  is  named 
Christina  Jansen;  she  sings  under  the  stage-name  of  Christina 
Carlson,  and  is  the  daughter  of  Carl  Jansen,  living  at  the  place 
named.  Inquiry  at  the  theater  showed  her  to  be  a girl  of  good 
character,  very  much  esteemed  by  her  acquaintances,  and  greatly 
admired  as  a very  brilliant  singer. 

Later. — A young  man  named  Nathan  Brederhagan,  belong- 
ing to  a wealthy  and  respectable  family,  and  residing  with  his 
mother  at  No.  637  Sherman  Street,  was  arrested  this  morning  at 
one  o’clock,  in  his  bed,  by  police  officer  No.  18,333,  on  informa- 
tion furnished  by  the  family  of  the  unfortunate  girl.  A bloody 
dagger  was  found  in  his  pocket.  As  the  girl  is  likely  to  die  he  was 
committed  to  jail  and  bail  refused.  He  is  represented  to  be  a dis- 
sipated, reckless  young  fellow,  and  it  seems  was  in  love  with  the 
girl,  and  sought  her  hand  in  marriage;  and  she  refused  him; 
whereupon,  in  his  rage,  he  attempted  to  take  her  life.  His  terrible 


252 


CjEsar^s  column. 


deed  has  plunged  a large  circle  of  relatives  and  friends  into  great 
shame  and  sorrow. 

“I  had  started  to  my  feet  as  soon  as  I heard  the 
words,  ‘The  girl  is  a singer  in  Peter  Bingham’s 
Variety  Theater,’  but,  when  her  name  was  men- 
tioned and  her  probable  death,  the  pangs  that  shot 
through  me  no  words  of  mine  can  describe. 

“It  is  customary  with  us  all  to  think  that  our 
intellect  is  our  self,  and  that  we  are  only  what  we 
think ; but  there  are  in  the  depths  of  our  nature  feel- 
ings, emotions,  qualities  of  the  soul,  with  which  the 
mere  intelligence  has  nothing  to  do ; and  which,  when 
they  rise  up,  like  an  enraged  elephant  from  the  jun- 
gle, scatter  all  the  conventionalities  of  our  training, 
and  all  the  smooth  and  automaton-like  operations 
of  our  minds  to  the  winds.  As  I stood  there,  list- 
ening to  the  dead-level,  unimpassioned,  mechanical 
voice  of  the  phonograph,  pouring  forth  those  deadly 
sentences,  I realized  for  the  first  time  what  the  sun- 
ny-haired little  songstress  was  to  me. 

‘ ‘ ‘ Wounded ! Dead ! ’ 

“I  seized  my  hat,  and,  to  the  astonishment  of  the 
waiters,  I rushed  out.  I called  a hack.  I had  to 
alter  my  appearance.  I grudged  the  time  neces- 
sary for  this  very  necessary  precaution,  but,  paying 
the  driver  double  fare,  I went,  as  fast  as  his  horses’ 
legs  could  carry  me,  to  the  place,  in  a saloon  kept  by 
one  of  the  Brotherhood,  where  I was  in^  the  habit  of 
changing  my  disguises.  I dismissed  the  hack,  hur- 
ried to  my  room,  and  in  a few  minutes  I was  again 
flying  along,  in  another  hack,  to  1252  Seward  Street. 
I rushed  up  the  steps.  Her  mother  u'et  me  in  the 
hall.  She  was  crying. 

‘“Is  she  alive? ’ I asked. 


CjESAR'S  column. 


253 


“‘Yes,  jes,’  she  replied. 

“ ‘ What  does  the  doctor  say  ? ’ I inquired. 

“ ‘He  says  she  will  not  die — but  her  voice  is  gone 
forever,’  she  replied. 

“Her  tears  burst  forth  afresh.  I was  shocked — 
inexpressibly  shocked.  True,  it  was  joy  to  know  she 
would  live;  but  to  think  of  that  noble  instrument 
of  grace  and  joy  and  melody  silenced  forever!  It 
w'as  like  the  funeral  of  an  angel  I God,  in  the  infinite 
diversity  of  his  creation,  makes  so  few  such  voices— 
so  few  such  marvelous  adjustments  of  those  vibrat- 
ing chords  to  the  capabilities  of  the  air  and  the 
human  sense  and  the  infinite  human  soul  that  dwells 
behind  the  sense — and  all  to  be  the  spoil  of  a ruffian’s 
knife.  Oh!  if  I could  have  laid  my  hands  on  the 
little  villain!  I should  have  butchered  him  with  his 
own  dagger — sanctified,  as  it  was,  with  her  precious 
blood.  The  infamous  little  scoundrel!  To  think 
that  such  a vicious,  shallow,  drunken  brute  could 
have  power  to  ‘ break  into  the  bloody  house  of  life  ’ 
and  bring  to  naught  such  a precious  and  unparal- 
leled gift  of  God.  I had  to  clutch  the  railing  of 
the  stairs  to  keep  from  falling.  Fortunately  for  me, 
poor  Mrs.  Jansen  was  too  much  absorbed  in  her 
own  sorrows  to  notice  mine.  She  grieved  deeply  and 
sincerely  for  her  daughter’s  sufferings  and  the  loss  of 
her  voice  ; but,  worse  than  all,  there  rose  before  her — 
the  future  ! She  looked  with  dilated  eyes  into  that 
dreadful  vista.  She  saw  again  the  hard,  grinding, 
sordid  poverty  from  which  they  had  but  a little  time 
before  escaped  — she  saw  again  her  husba.nd  bent 
down  with  care,  and  she  heard  her  children  crying 
once  more  for  bread.  I read  the  poor  woman’s 
thoughts.  It  was  not  selfishness — it  was  love  for 


254 


CJESAR’S  COLUMN. 


those  dear  to  her;  and  I took  her  hand,  and — 
scarcely  knowing  what  I said — I told  her  she  must 
not  worry,  that  she  and  her  family  should  never 
suffer  want  again.  She  looked  at  me  in  surprise, 
and  thanked  me,  and  said , I was  always  good  and 
kind. 

“In  a little  while  she  took  me  to  Christina’s  room. 
The  poor  girl  w’as  under  the  influence  of  morphine 
and  sleeping  a troubled  sleep.  Her  face  was  very 
pale  from  loss  of  blood ; and  her  head  and  neck  were 
all  bound  up  in  white  bandages,  here  and  there 
stained  with  the  ghastly  fluid  that  flowed  from  her 
wounds.  It  was  a pitiable  sight:  her  short,  crisp 
yellow  curls  broke  here  and  there,  rebelliously, 
through  the  folds  of  the  linen  bandages;  and  I 
thought  how  she  used  to  shake  them,  responsive  to 
the  qiiiverings  of  the  cadenzas  and  trills  that  poured 
from  her  bird-like  throat.  ‘Alas ! ’ I said  to  myself, 
‘ poor  throat ! you  will  never  sing  again ! Poor  lit- 
tle curls,  you  will  never  tremble  again  in  sympathy 
wdth  the  dancing  delight  of  that  happy  voice.’  A 
dead  voice!  Oh!  it  is  one  of  the  saddest  things  in 
the  world!  I went  to  the  window  to  hide  the  un- 
manly tears  which  streamed  down  my  face. 

“When  she  woke  she  seemed  pleased  to  see  me 
near  her,  and  extended  her  hand  to  me  with  a little 
smile.  The  doctor  had  told  her  she  must  not  at- 
tempt to  speak.  I held  her  hand  for  awhile,  and 
told  how  grieved  I was  over  her  misfortune.  And 
then  I told  her  I would  bring  her  a tablet  and  pencil, 
so  that  she  might  communicate  her  wants  to  us; 
and  then  I said  to  her  that  I was  out  of  a job  at  my 
trade  (I  know  that  the  angels  in  heaven  do  not 
record  such  lies),  and  that  I had  nothing  to  do,  and 


CJESAR'S  column. 


255 


could  stay  and  wait  upon  her ; for  the  other  children 
were  too  small,  and  lier  mother  too  busy  to  be  with 
her  all  the  time,  and  her  father  and  I could  divide  the 
time  between  us.  She  smiled  again  and  thanked  me 
with  her  eyes. 

“And  I was  very  busy  and  almost  happy — mov- 
ing around  that  room  on  tiptoe  in  my  slippers 
while  she  slept,  or  talking  to  her  in  a bright  and 
chatty  way,  about  everything  that  I thought  would 
interest  her,  or  bringing  her  flowers,  or  feeding  her 
the  liquid  food  which  alone  she  could  swallow. 

“The.  doctor  came  every  day.  I questioned  him 
closely.  He  was  an  intelligent  man,  and  had,  1 
could  see,  taken  quite  a liking  to  his  little  patient. 
He  told  me  that  the  knife  had  just  missed,  by  a 
hair’s  breadth,  the  carotid  artery,  but  unfortunately 
it  had  struck  the  cervical  plexus,  that  important 
nerve-plexus,  situated  in  the  side  of  the  neck;  and 
had  cut  the  recurrent  laryngeal  nerve,  which  arises 
from  the  cervical  plexus  and  supplies  the  muscles 
of  the  larynx;  and  it  had  thereby  caused  instant 
paralysis  of  those  muscles,  and  aphonia,  or  loss  of 
voice.  I asked  him  if  she  would  ever  be  able  to  sing 
again.  He  said  it  was  not  certain.  If  the  severed 
ends  of  the  nerve  reunited  fully  her  voice  might 
return  with  all  its  former  power.  He  hoped  for  the 
best. 

“One  morning  I was  called  down  stairs  by  Mrs. 
Jansen;  it  was  three  or  four  days  after  the  assault 
had  been  made  on  Christina.  There  I found  the  chief 
of  police  of  that  department.  He  said  it  had  be- 
come necessary,  in  the  course  of  the  legal  proceed- 
ings, that  Brederhagan  should  be  identified  by  Chris- 
tina as  her  assailant.  The  doctor  had  reported 


250 


CA'SAli’S  COLUMN. 


that  there  was  now  no  danger  other  death;  and  the 
family  of  the  little  rascal  desired  to  get  him  out  on 
bail.  I told  him  I would  confer  with  the  physician, 
when  he  called,  as  to  whether  Christina  could  stand 
the  excitement  of  such  an  interview,  and  I would 
notify  him.  He  thanked  me  and  took  his  leave. 
That  day  I spoke  upon  the  subject  to  Dr.  Hemnip, 
and  he  thought  that  Christina  had  so  far  recovered 
her  strength  that  she  might  see  the  prisoner  the  day 
after  the  next.  At  the  same  time  he  cautioned  her 
not  to  become  nervous  or  excited,  and  not  to  at- 
tempt to  speak.  She  was  simply  to  write  ‘Yes’  on 
hei-  tablet,  in  answer  to  the  question  asked  her  by 
the  police.  The  interview  was  to  be  as  brief  as  pos- 
sible. I communicated  with  the  chief  of  police,  as  I 
liad  promised,  giving  him  these  details,  and  fixed  an 
hour  for  him  to  call.” 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

max’s  story  continued— the  widow  and  her  son. 

“ The  next  day,  about  ten  in  the  morning,  I went 
out  to  procure  some  medicine  for  Christina.  I was 
gone  but  a few  minutes,  and  on  my  return,  as  I 
mounted  the  stairs,  I was  surprised  to  hear  a strange 
voice  in  the  sick-room.  I entered  and  was  intro- 
duced by  Mrs.  Jansen  to  ‘Mrs.  Brederhagan,’  the 
rich  widow,  the  mother  of  the  little  wretch  who  had 
assaulted  Christina.  She  was  a large,  florid  woman, 
extravagantly  dressed,  with  one  of  those  shallow, 
unsympathetic  voices  which  betoken  a small  and 
flippant  soul.  Her  lawyers  had  told  her  that 
Nathan  would  probably  be  sent  to  prison  for  a term 
of  years ; and  so  she  had  come  to  see  if  she  could  not 
beg  his  victim  to  spare  him.  She  played  her  part 
well.  She  got  down  on  her  knees  by  the  bedside  in 
all  her  silks  and  furbelows,  and  seized  Christina’s 
hand  and  wept ; and  told  of  her  own  desolate  state 
as  a widow — drawing,  incidentally,  a picture  of  the 
virtues  of  her  deceased  husband,  which  he  himself — 
good  man — would  not  have  recognized  in  this  world 
or  any  other.  And  then  she  descanted  on  the  kind 
heart  of  her  poor  boy,  and  how  he  had  been  led  off 
by  bad  company,  etc.,  etc.  Christina  listened  with 
an  intent  look  to  all  this  story;  but  she  flushed  when 
the  widow  proceeded  to  say  how'  deeply  her  son  loved 
her,  Christina,  and  that  it  was  his  love  for  her  that 
had  caused  him  to  commit  his  desperate  act ; and  she 

t?  *S7 


258 


CJESAR'S  COLUMN. 


actually  said  that,  although  Christina  was  but  a 
poor  singer,  with  no  blood  worth  speaking  of,  in 
comparison  with  her  own  illustrious  long  line  of 
nobodies,  yet  she  brought  Christina  an  offer  from 
her  son — sanctioned  by  her  own  approval — that 
he  would — if  she  would  spare  him  from  imprisonment 
and  his  family  from  disgrace — marry  her  outright 
and  off-hand;  and  that  she  would,  as  a magnani- 
mous and  generous,  upper-crust  woman,  welcome  her, 
despite  all  her  disadvantages  and  drawbacks,  to 
her  bosom  as  a daughter!  All  this  she  told  with 
a great  many  tears  and  ejaculations,  all  the  time 
clinging  to  Christina’s  hand. 

“When  she  had  finished  and  risen,  and  readjusted 
her  disarranged  flounces,  Christina  took  her  tablet 
and  wrote : 

“ ‘ I could  not  marry  your  son.  As  to  the  rest,  I 
will  think  it  over.  Please  do  not  come  again.’ 

“The  widow  would  have  gotten  down  on  her 
knees  and  gone  at  it  again ; but  I took  her  aside  and 
said  to  her : 

“ ‘ Do  you  not  see  that  this  poor  girl  is  very  weak, 
and  your  appeals  distress  her  ? Go  home  and  I will 
communicate  with  you.’ 

“And  I took  her  by  the  arm,  and  firmly  but 
respectfully  led  her  out  of  the  room,  furbelows,  gold 
chains  and  all.  She  did  not  feel  at  all  satisfied  with 
the  success  of  her  mission ; but  I saw  her  into  her 
carriage  and  told  the  driver  to  take  her  home.  I 
was  indignant.  I felt  that  the  w'hole  thing  was  an 
attempt  to  play  upon  the  sympathies  of  my  poor 
little  patient,  and  that  the  woman  was  a hollow, 
heartless  old  fraud. 

“The  next  day,  at  the  appointed  hour, the  chief  of 


CESAR'S  COLUMN. 


259 


police  came,  accompanied  by  the  prisoner.  The  latter 
had  had  no  liquor  for  several  days  and  was  collapsed 
enough.  All  his  courage  and  vanity  had  oozed  out 
of  him.  He  was  a dilapidated  wreck.  He  knew  that 
the  penitentiary  yawned  for  him,  and  he  felt  his  con- 
dition as  deeply  as  such  a shallow  nature  could  feel 
anything.  I scowled  at  the  wretch  in  a way  which 
alarmed  him  for  his  personal  safety,  and  he  trembled 
and  hurried  behind  the  policeman. 

“ Christina  had  been  given  a strengthening  drink. 
The  doctor  was  there  with  his  finger  on  her  pulse; 
she  was  raised  up  on  some  pillows.  Her  father  and 
mother  were  present.  When  we  entered  she  looked 
for  an  instant  at  the  miserable,  dejected  little  crea- 
ture, and  I saw  a shudder  run  through  her  frame, 
and  then  she  closed  her  eyes. 

“‘Miss  Jansen,’  said  the  chief  of  police,  ‘be  kind 
enough  to  say  whether  or  not  this  is  the  man  who 
tried  to  kill  you.’ 

“I  handed  her  the  tablet  and  pencil.  ShewTote  a 
few  words.  I handed  it  to  the  chief. 

“‘What  does  this  mean?’  he  said,  in  evident 
astonishment. 

“I  took  the  tablet  out  of  his  hand,  and  was 
thunderstruck  to  find  on  it  these  unexpected  words : 

“ ‘ This  is  not  the  man.’ 

“‘Then,’  said  the  chief  of  police,  ‘there  is  nothing 
more  to  do  than  to  discharge  the  prisoner.’ 

“Her  father  and  mother  stepped  forward;  but 
she  waved  them  back  with  her  hand;  and  the  chief 
led  the  culprit  out,  too  much  stunned  to  yet  realize 
that  he  was  free. 

“‘What  does  this  mean,  Christina?’  I asked,  in 
a tone  that  expressed  indignation,  if  not  anger. 


260 


CMSAR'S  COLUMN. 


“ She  took  her  tablet  and  wrote : 

“ ‘ What  good  would  it  do  to  send  that  poor,  fool- 
ish boy  to  prison  for  many  years  ? He  was  drunk  or 
he  would  not  have  hurt  me.  It  will  do  no  good  to 
bring  disgrace  on  a respectable  family.  This  great 
lesson  may  reform  him  and  make  him  a good  man.’ 

“At  that  moment  I made  up  my  mind  to  make 
Christina  my  wife,  if  she  would  have  me.  Such  a soul 
was  worth  a mountain  of  rubies.  There  are.  only 
a few  of  them  in  each  generation,  and  fortunate  be- 
yond expression  is  the  man  who  can  call  one  of  them 
his  own ! 

“ But  I was  not  going  to  see  my  poor  love,  or  her 
family,  imposed  on  by  that  scheming  old  widow.  I 
hurried  out  of  the  house ; I called  a hack,  and  drove 
to  Mrs.  Brederhagan’s  house.  I found  her  and  her 
son  in  the  first  paroxysm  of  joy — locked  in  each 
other’s  arms. 

“‘Mrs.  Brederhagan,’  I said,  ‘your  vicious  little 
devil  of  a son  here  has  escaped  punishment  so  far 
for  his  cruel  and  cowardly  assault  upon  a poor  girl. 
He  has  escaped  through  her  unexampled  magna- 
nimity and  generosity;  But  do  you  know  what  he 
has  done  to  her?  He  has  silenced  her  exquisite  voice 
forever.  He  has  ruthlessly  destroyed  that  which  a 
million  like  him  could  not  create.  That  poor  girl 
will  never  sing  again.  She  was  the  sole  support  of 
her  family.  This  imp  here  has  taken  the  bread  ont 
of  their  mouths — they  will  starve.  You  owe  it  to 
her  to  make  a deed  of  gift  whereby  you  will  endow 
her  with  the  amount  she  was  earning  when  your 
son’s  dagger  pierced  her  poor  throat  and  silenced 
her  voice;  that  is — fifty  dollars  a week.’ 

“ The  widow  ruffled  up  her  feathers,  and  said  she 


CESAR’S  COLUMN. 


261 


did  not  see  why  she  should  give  Christina  fifty  dol- 
lars a week.  She  had  declared  that  her  son  was  not 
the  one  who  had  assaulted  her,  and  he  was  a free 
man,  and  that  was  the  end  of  their  connection  with 
the  matter. 

“ ‘ Ha ! ha ! ’ said  I,  ‘ and  so,  that  is  your  position? 
Now  you  will  send  at  once  for  a notary  and  do  as  I 
tell  you,  or  in  one  hour  your  son  shall  be  arrested 
again.  Christina’s  mother  knows  him  perfectly  well, 
and  will  identify  him  ; and  Christina  herself  will  not 
swear  in  court  to  the  generous  falsehood  she  told  to 
screen  you  and  yours  from  disgrace.  You  are  a 
worthy  mother  of  such  a son,  when  you  cannot 
appreciate  one  of  the  noblest  acts  ever  performed  in 
this  world.’ 

“ The  widow  grew  pale  at  these  threats ; and  after 
she  and  her  hopeful  son — who  was  in  a great  fright — 
had  whispered  together,  she  reluctantly  agreed  to 
my  terms.  A notary  was  sent  for,  and  the  deed 
drawn  and  executed,  and  a check  given,  at  my  de- 
mand, for  the  first  month’s  payment. 

“‘Now,’  said  I,  turning  to  Master  Nathan,  ‘per- 
mit me  to  say  one  word  to  you,  young  man.  If  you 
ever  again  approach,  or  speak  to,  or  molest  in  any 
way.  Miss  Christina  Carlson,  I will,’ — and  here  I drew 
close  to  him  and  put  my  finger  on  his  breast I will 
kill  you  like  a dog.’ 

“ With  this  parting  shot  I left  the  happy  pair,” 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

MAX  ”8  STORY  CONTINUED  — THE  BLACKSMITH  SHOP. 

“I  NEED  not  describe  the  joy  there  was  in  the 
Jansen  family  when  I brought  home  Mrs.  Breder- 
hagan’s  deed  of  gift  and  the  money.  Christina  did 
not  yet  know  that  her  voice  was  destroyed,  and 
hence  was  disposed  to  refuse  what  she  called  ‘the 
good  lady’s  great  generosity.’  But  we  reminded  her 
that  the  widow  was  rich,  and  that  her  son  had  in- 
flicted great  and  painful  wounds  upon  her,  which  had 
caused  her  weeks  of  weary  sickness,  to  say  nothing 
of  the  doctor’s  bills  and  the  other  expenses  they  had 
been  subjected  to;  and  so,  at  last,  she  consented, 
and  agreed  that,  for  the  present  at  least,  she  would 
receive  the  widow’s  money,  but  only  until  she  could 
resume  her  place  on  the  boards  of  the  theater.  But 
the  deed  of  gift  drove  the  brooding  shadows  out  of 
the  heart  and  eyes  of  poor  Mrs.  Jansen. 

“I  need  not  tell  you  all  the  details  of  Christina’s 
recovery.  Day  by  day  she  grew  stronger.  She  be- 
gan to  speak  in  whispers,  and  gradually  she  recov- 
ered her  power  of  speech,  although  the  voice  at  first 
sounded  husky.  She  was  soon  able  to  move  about 
the  house,  for  youth  and  youthful  spirits  are  great 
medicines.  One  day  she  placed  her  hand  on  mine 
and  thanked  me  for  all  my  great  kindness  to  her;  and 
said,  in  her  arch  way,  that  I was  a good,  kind- 
hearted  friend,  and  it  was  a pity  I had  any  weak- 
nesses; and  that  I must  not  forget  my  promise  to 

269 


CESAR’S  COLUMN. 


263 


her  a.boiit  the  next  New  Year’s  day.  But  she  feared 
that  I had  neglected  my  business  to  look  after  her. 

“At  length  she  learned  from  the  doctor  that  she 
could  never  sing  again;  that  her  throat  was  par- 
alyzed. It  was  a bitter  grief  to  her,  and  she  wept 
quietly  for  some  hours.  And  then  she  comforted  her- 
self with  the  reflection  that  the  provision  made  for 
her  by  Mrs.  Brederhagan  had  placed  herself  and  her 
family  beyond  the  reach  of  poverty.  But  for  this  I 
think  she  would  have  broken  her  heart. 

“I  had  been  cogitating  for  some  days  upon  a new 
idea.  It  seemed  to  me  that  these  plain,  good  people 
would  be  much  happier  in  the  country  than  in  the 
city;  and,  besides,  their  income  would  go  farther. 
They  had  country  blood  in  their  veins,  and  it  takes 
several  generations  to  get  the  scent  of  the  flowers 
out  of  the  instincts  of  a family;  they  have  subtle 
promptings  in  them  to  walk  in  the  grass  and  behold 
the  grazing  kine.  And  a city,  after  all,  is  only  fit  for 
temporary  purposes — to  see  the  play  and  the  shops 
and  the  mob — and  wear  one’s  life  out  in  nothing- 
nesses. As  one  of  the  poets  says : 

“ ‘ Thus  is  it  in  the  world-hive ; most  where  men 
Lie  deep  in  cities  as  in  drifts— death  drifts — 

Nosing  each  other  like  a flock  of  sheep ; 

Not  knowing  and  not  caring  whence  nor  whither 
They  come  or  go,  so  that  they  fool  together.’ 

“And  then  I thought,  too,  that  Mr.  Jansen  was 
unhappy  in  idleness.  He  was  a great,  strong  man, 
and  accustomed  all  his  life  to  hard  work,  and  his 
muscles  cried  out  for  exercise. 

“So  I started  out  and  made  little  excursions  in 
all  directions.  At  last  I found  the  very  place  I had 
been  looking  for.  It  was  about  twelve  miles  beyond 


264 


CESAR'S  COLUMN. 


the  built-up  portions  of  the  suburbs,  in  a high  and 
airy  neighborhood,  and  contained  about  ten  acres  of 
land.  There  was  a little  grove,  a field,  a garden,  and 
an  old-fashioned,  roomy  house.  The  house  needed 
some  repairs,  it  is  true ; but  beyond  the  grove  two 
roads  crossed  each  other,  and  at  the  angle  would  be 
an  admirable  place  for  a blacksmith  shop.  I pur- 
chased the  whole  thing  very  cheaply.  Then  I set 
carpenters  to  work  to  repair  thQ,  house  and  build  a 
blacksmith  shop.  The  former  I equipped  with  furni- 
ture, and  the  latter  with  anvil,  bellows  and  other 
tools,  and  a supply  of  coal  and  iron. 

“When  everything  was  ready  I told  Christina 
another  of  my  white  lies.  I said  to  her  that  Mrs. 
Brederhagan,  learning  that  her  voice  was  ruined  for- 
ever by  her  son’s  dagger,  had  felt  impelled,  by  her 
conscience  and  sense  of  right,  to  make  her  a present 
of  a little  place  in  the  country,  and  had  deputed  me 
to  look  after  the  matter  for  her,  and  that  I had 
bought  the  very  place  that  I thought  would  suit 
them. 

“And  so  we  all  started  out  to  view  the  premises. 
It  would  be  hard  to  say  who  was  most  delighted, 
Christina  or  her  mother  or  her  father ; but  I am  in- 
clined to  think  the  latter  took  more  pure  happiness 
in  his  well-equipped  little  shop,  with  the  big  sign, 
‘Carl  Jansen,  Blacksmith,’  and  the  picture  of  a 
man  shoeing  a horse,  than  Christina  did  in  the 
flower-bed,  or  her  mother  in  the  comfortable  house- 
hold arrangements. 

“Soon  after  the  whole  family  moved  out.  I was 
right.  A race  that  has  lived  for  several  generations 
in  the  country  is  an  exotic  in  a city.” 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

max’s  story  concluded— the  unexpected  happens. 

“I  USED  to  run  out  every  other  day,  and  I was  as 
welcome  as  if  I had  been  really  a member  of  the  fam- 
ily. The  day  before  yesterday  I found  the  whole 
household  in  a state  of  joyous  excitement.  Christina 
had  been  enjoined  to  put  the  baby  to  sleep ; and  while 
rocking  it  in  its  cradle  she  had,  all  unconsciously, 
begun  to  sing  a little  nursery  song.  Suddenly  she 
sprang  to  her  feet,  and,  running  to  her  mother,  cried 
out: 

“ ‘ Oh,  mother ! I can  sing ! Listen.’ 

“She  found,  however,  that  the  voice  was  still 
quite  weak,  and  that  if  she  tried  to  touch  any  of  the 
higher  notes  there  was  a pain  in  her  throat. 

“I  advised  her  to  forbear  singing  for  sometime, 
and  permit  the  organs  of  the  voice  to  resume  their 
natural  condition.  It  might  be  that  the  doctor  was 
wrong  in  his  prognosis  of  her  case ; or  it  might  be  that 
the  injured  nerve,  as  he  had  said  was  possible,  had 
resumed  its  function,  through  the  curative  power  of 
nature.  But  it  was  a great  delight  to  us  all,  and  es- 
pecially to  the  poor  girl  herself,  to  think  that  her 
grand  voice  might  yet  be  restored  to  her. 

“ To-day  I went  out  again. 

“I  thought  that  Mr.  Jansen  met  me  with  a con- 
strained manner;  and  when  Mrs.  Jansen  saw  me, 
instead  of  welcoming  me  with  a cordial  smile,  as  Avas 
usual  wi  th  her,  she  retreated  into  the  house.  And 

J65 


266 


CESAR'S  COLUMN. 


when  I went  into  the  parlor,  Christina’s  manner  was 
still  more  embarrassing.  She  blushed  as  she  ex- 
tended her  hand  to  me,  and  seemed  very  much  con- 
fused; and  yet  her  manner  was  not  unkind  or  un- 
friendly. I could  not  understand  it. 

“ ‘ What  is  the  matter,  Christina?  ’ I asked. 

“The  little  woman  was  incapable  of  double-deal- 
ing, and  so  she  said : 

“‘You  know  it  came  into  my  head  lately,  very 
often,  that  Mrs.  Brederhagan  had  been  exceedingly, 
I might  say  extraordinarily,  kind  to  me.  It  is  true 
her  son  had  done  me  a great  injury,  and  might  have 
killed  me;  and  I refused  to  testify  against  him.  But 
she  had  not  only  given  me  that  deed  of  gift  you 
brought  me,  but  she  had  also  presented  papa  with 
this  charming  home.  And  so  I said  to  myself  that 
she  must  think  me  very  rude  and  ungrateful,  since  I 
had  never  called  upon  her  to  thank  her  in  person. 
And  so,  knowing  that  Nathan  had  been  sent  to  Eu- 
rope, I made  up  my  mind,  yesterday,  that  I would 
go  into  town,  and  call  upon  Mrs.  Brederhagan,  and 
thank  her  for  all  her  kindness. 

“ ‘ I took  a hack  to  her  house  from  the  station, 
and  sent  up  my  card.  She  received  me  quite  kindly. 
After  a few  inquiries  and  commonplaces  I thanked 
her  as  I had  intended  doing.  She  smiled  and  made 
light  of  it;  then  I spoke  of  the  house,  and  the  gar- 
den, and  the  blacksmith  shop,  and  how  grateful  we 
all  were  to  her. 

“ ‘ “Why,”  said  she,  “what  on  earth  are  you  talk- 
ing about?  I never  gave  you  a house,  or  a garden, 
or  a blacksmith  shop.” 

“ ‘You  may  imagine  my  surprise. 

“‘“Why,”  said  I,  “did  you  not  give  Mr.  Frank 


CAESAR'S  COLUMN. 


267 


Montgomery  the  money  to  purchase  it,  and  tell  him 
to  have  the  deed  made  out  to  my  father  ? ” 

“‘“My  dear,”  said  she,  “you  bewilder  me;  I never 
in  all  my  life  heard  of  such  a person  as  Mr.  Frank 
Montgomery;  and  I certainly  never  gave  him  any 
money  to  buy  a house  for  anybody.” 

“‘“Why,”  said  I,  “do  you  pretend  you  do  not 
know  Mr.  Frank  Montgomery,  who  brought  me  your 
deed  of  gift?  ” 

‘““That,”  she  said,  “was  not  Mr.  Frank  Mont- 
gomery, but  Mr.  Arthur  Phillips.” 

““‘No,  no,”  I said,  “you  are  mistaken;  it  was 
Frank  Montgomery,  a printer  by  trade,  who  owns 
the  house  we  used  to  live  in,  at  1252  Seward  Street. 
I am  well  acquainted  with  him.” 

“ ‘ “Well,”  said  she,  “this  is  certainly  astonishing! 
Mr.  Arthur  Phillips,  whom  I have  known  for  years,  a 
young  gentleman  of  large  fortune,  a lawyer  by  pro- 
fession, comes  to  me  and  tells  me,  the  very  day  you 
said  my  son  was  not  the  man  who  assaulted  you, 
that  unless  I settled  fifty  dollars  a week  on  you  for 
life,  by  a deed  of  gift,  he  would  have  Nathan  rear- 
rested for  an  attempt  to  murder  you,  and  w'ould 
prove  his  guilt  by  your  mother ; and  now  you  come 
and  try  to  make  me  believe  that  Arthur  Phillips,  the 
lawyer,  is  Frank  Montgomery,  the  printer ; that  he 
lives  in  a little  house  on  Seward  Street,  and  that  I 
have  been  giving  him  money  to  buy  you  houses  and 
gardens  and  blacksmith  shops  in  the  country!  I 
hope,  my  dear,  that  the  shock  you  received,  on  that 
dreadful  night,  has  not  affected  your  mind.  But  I 
would  advise  you  to  go  home  to  your  parents.” 

“ ‘And  therewithal  she  politely  bow’ed  me  out.’ 

“ ‘I  was  very  much  astonished  and  bewildered.  I 


268 


CESAR’S  COLUMN. 


stood  for  some  time  on  the  doorstep,  not  knowing 
what  to  do  next.  Then  it  occurred  to  me  that  I 
would  go  to  your  house  and  ask  you  what  it  all 
meant;  for  I had  no  doubt  Mrs.  Brederhagan  was 
wrong,  and  that  you  were,  indeed,  Frank  Montgom- 
ery, the  printer.  I found  the  house  locked  up  and 
empty.  A bill  on  the  door  showed  that  it  was  to 
rent,  and  referred  inquirers  to  the  corner  grocery. 
They  remembered  me  very  well  there.  I asked  them 
where  you  were.  They  did  not  know.  Then  I asked 
whether  they  were  not  agents  for  you  to  rent  the 
house.  Oh,  no;  you  did  not  own  the  house.  But 
had  you  not  lived  in  it  for  years?  No;  you  rented 
it  the  very  morning  of  the  same  day  w^e  moved  in. 
I was  astounded,  and  more  perplexed  than  ever. 
What  did  it  all  mean  ? If  you  did  not  own  the  house 
and  had  not  been  born  in  it,  or  lived  there  all  your  life, 
as  you  said,  then  the  rest  of  your  story  was  prob- 
ably false  also,  and  the  name  you  bore  was  assumed. 
And  for  what  purpose?  And  why  did  you  move  into 
that  house  the  same  day  we  rented  it  from  you?  It 
looked  like  a scheme  to  entrap  us ; and  yet  you  had 
always  been  so  kind  and  good  that  I could  not  think 
evil  of  you.  Then  it  occurred  to  me  that  I w^ould  go 
and  see  Peter  Bingham,  the  proprietor  of  the  the- 
ater. I desired,  anyhow,  to  tell  him  that  I thought  I 
would  recover  my  voice,  and  that  I might  want 
another  engagement  with  him  after  awhile.  When  I 
met  him  I fancied  there  was  a shade  of  insolence  in 
his  manner.  When  I spoke  of  singing  again  he 
laughed,  and  said  he  guessed  I would  never  want  to 
go  on  the  boards  again.  Why?  I asked.  Then  he 
laughed  again,  and  said  “Mr.  Phillips  would  not  let 
me;  ” and  then  he  began  to  abuse  you,  and  said  yon 


CESAR’S  COLUMN. 


269 


“liad  forced  him  to  give  me  fifty  dollars  a week  for 
my  singing  wlien  it  wasn’t  worth  ten  dollars;  but  he 
understood  then  what  it  all  meant,  and  that  now 
every  one  understood  it; — that  you  had  lived  in  the 
same  house  with  me  for  months,  and  now  you  had 
purchased  a cage  for  your  bird  in  the  country.”  At 
first  1 could  not  understand  what  he  meant;  and  when 
at  last  I comprehended  his  meaning  and  burst  into 
tears,  he  began  to  apologize ; but  I would  not  listen 
to  him,  and  hurried  home  and  told  everything  to 
papa  and  mamma. 

“ ‘Now,’  she  continued,  looking  me  steadily  in  the 
face  with  her  frank,  clear  eyes,  ‘w^e  have  talked  it  all 
over  for  hours,  and  we  have  come  to  several  conclu- 
sions. First,  you  are  not  Francis  Montgomery,  but 
Arthur  Phillips ; second,  you  are  not  a poor  printer, 
but  a rich  young  gentleman;  third,  you  have  done 
me  a great  many  kindnesses  and  attributed  them  to 
others.  You  secured  me  a large  salary  from  Bing- 
ham ; you  made  Mrs.  Brederhagan  settle  an  income 
upon  me;  you  nursed  me  through  all  my  sickness, 
with  the  tenderness  of  a brother,  and  you  have 
bought  this  beautiful  place  and  presented  it  to  papa. 
You  have  done  us  all  nothing  but  good;  and  you 
claimed  no  credit  for  it;  and  we  shall  all  be  grate- 
ful to  you  and  honor  you  and  pray  for  you  to  the 
end  of  our  lives.  But,’  and  here  she  took  my  hand 
as  a sister  might,  ‘but  we  cannot  keep  this  place. 
You  will  yourself  see  that  we  cannot.  You  a poor 
printer,  we  met  on  terms  of  equality.  From  a rich 
young  gentleman  this  noble  gift  would  be  universally 
considered  as  the  price  of  my  honor  and  self-respect. 
It  is  so  considered  already.  The  deed  of  gift  from 
Mrs.  Brederhagan  I shall  avail  myself  of  until  I am 


270 


CESAR’S  COLUMN. 


able  to  resume  my  place  on  the  stage ; but  here  is  a 
deed,  signed  by  my  father  and  mother,  for  this  place, 
and  to-morrow  we  must  leave  it.  We  may  not  meet 
again’— and  here  the  large  eyes  began  to  swim  in 
tears — ‘but — but — I shall  never  forget  your  good- 
ness to  me.’ 

“‘Christina,’  I said,  ‘suppose  I had  really  been 
Frank  Montgomery,  the  printer,  would  you  have 
driven  me  away  from  you  thus  ? ’ 

“‘Oh!  no!  no!’  she  cried;  ‘you  are  our  dearest 
land  best  friend.  And  I do  not  drive  you  away.  I 
must  leave  you.  The  world  can  have  only  one  inter- 
pretation of  the  relation  of  two  people  so  differently 
situated — a very  wealthy  young  gentleman  and  a 
poor  little  singer,  the  daughter  of  a poor,  foreign- 
born  workman.’ 

^l“Well,  then,’  said  I,  taking  her  in  my  arms,  ‘let 
the  blabbing,  babbling  old  world  know  that  that 
poor  little  singer  sits  higher  in  my  heart,  yes,  in  my 
brain  and  judgment,  than  all  the  queens  and  prin- 
cesses of  the  world.  I have  found  in  her  the  one  ines- 
timable jewel  of  the  earth  — a truly  good  and  noble 
woman.  If  I deceived  you  it  was  because  I loved 
you;  loved  you  with  my  whole  heart  and  soul  and 
all  the  depths  of  my  being.  I wanted  to  dwell  in  the 
same  house  with  you;  to  study  you;  to  see  you 
always  near  me.  I was  happier  when  I was  nursing 
you  through  your  sickness  than  I have  ever  been 
before  or  since.  I was  sorry,  to  tell  the  truth,  when 
you  got  well,  and  were  no  longer  dependent  on  me. 
And  now,  Christina,  if  you  will  say  yes,  we  will  fix  the 
day  for  the  wedding.’ 

“I  knew  as  soon  as  I began  to  speak  that  I had 
won  my  case.  There  was  no  struggle  to  escape  from 


CESAR’S  COLUMN. 


271 


my  arms;  and,  as  I went  on,  she  relaxed  even  her 
rigidity,  and  reposed  on  my  breast  with  trusting 
confidence. 

“‘Frank,’  she  said,  not  looking  up,  and  speaking 
in  a low  tone — ‘I  shall  always  call  you  Frank — I 
loved  the  poor  printer  from  the  very  first ; and  if  the 
rich  man  can  be  content  with  the  affection  I gave 
the  poor  one,  my  heart  and  life  are  yours.  But 
stop,’  she  added,  looking  up  with  an  arch  smile,  ‘you 
must  not  forget  the  promise  you  made  me  about 
New  Year’s  day ! ’ 

“‘Ah,  my  dear,’  I replied,  ‘that  was  jDart  of  poor 
Frank’s  character,  and  I suppose  that  is  what  you 
loved  him  for ; but  if  you  will  marry  a rich  man  you 
must  be  content  to  forego  all  those  attractions  oi 
the  poor,  foolish  printer.  I shall  not  stand  up  next 
New  Year’s  day  and  make  a vow  to  drink  no  more; 
but  1 make  a vow  now  to  kiss  the  sweetest  woman  in 
the  world  every  day  in  the  year.’ 

“And,  lest  I should  forget  so  sacred  an  obligation, 
I began  to  put  my  vow  into  execution  right  then  and 
there. 

“Afterward  the  old  folks  were  called  in,  and  I 
told  them  my  whole  story.  And  I said  to  them, 
moreover,  that  there  was  storm  and  danger  ahead ; 
that  the  great  convulsion  might  come  any  day; 
and  so  it  is  agreed  that  we  are  to  be  married,  at 
Christina’s  home,  the  day  after  to-morrow.  And 
to-morrow  I want  my  dear  mother,  and  you,  my 
dear  friends,  to  go  with  me  to  visit  the  truest  and 
noblest  little  woman  that  ever  promised  to  make 
a man  happy.” 


272 


C.El-iAR’S  COLUMN. 


When  Max  had  finished  his  long  story,  his  mother 
kissed  and  cried  over  him ; and  Estella  and  I shook 
hands  with  him;  and  we  were  a very  happy  party; 
and  no  one  would  have  thought,  from  our  jests  and 
laughter,  that  the  bloodhounds  of  the  aristocracy 
were  hunting  for  three  of  us,  and  that  we  were 
sitting  under  the  dark  presaging  shadow  of  a storm 
that  was  ready  to  vomit  fire  and  blood  at  any 
moment. 

Before  we  retired  that  night  Estella  and  I had  a 
private  conference,  and  I fear  that  at  the  end  of  it 
I made  the  same  astonishing  vow  which  Max  had 
made  to  Christina.  And  I came  to  another  surpris- 
ing conclusion — that  is,  that  no  woman  is  worth 
worshiping  unless  she  is  worth  wooing.  But  what 
I said  to  Estella,  and  what  she  said  to  me,  will  never 
be  revealed  to  any  one  in  this  world; — the  results, 
however,  will  appear  hereafter,  in  this  veracious 
chronicle. 


CHAPTER  XXl'S 

ELYSIUM. 

It  was  a bright  and  sunny  autumn  day.  We  were 
a very  happy  party.  Estella  was  disguised  with 
gold  spectacles,  a black  wig  and  a veil,  and  she 
looked  like  some  middle-aged  school-teacher  out  for 
a holiday.  We  took  the  electric  motor  to  a station 
one  mile  and  a half  from  Mr.  Jansen’s,  and  walked 
the  rest  of  the  way.  The  air  was  pure  and  sweet  and 
light;  it  seemed  to  be  breathed  right  out  of  heaven. 
The  breezes  touched  us  and  dallied  with  us  and  de- 
lighted us,  like  ministering  angels.  The  whole 
panoply  of  nature  was  magnificent;  the  soft-hued, 
grassy  fields;  the  embowered  trees ; the  feeding 
cattle ; the  children  playing  around  the  houses  ;— 

“Clowns  cracking  jokes,  and  lasses  with  sly  eyes, 

And  the  smile  settling  on  their  sun-flecked  cheeks 
Like  noon  upon  the  mellow  apricot.” 

My  soul  rose  upon  wings  and  swam  in  the  ether 
like  a swallow;  and  I thanked  God  that  he  had 
given  us  this  majestic,  this  beautiful,  this  surpassing 
world,  and  had  placed  within  us  the  delicate  sensi- 
bility and  capability  to  enjoy  it.  In  the  presence 
of  such  things  death — annihilation — seemed  to  me 
impossible,  and  I exclaimed  aloud : 

“ Hast  thou  not  heard 
That  thine  existence,  here  on  earth,  is  but 
The  dark  and  narrow  section  of  a life 
Which  was  with  God,  long  ere  the  sun  was  lit. 

And  shall  be  yet,  when  all  the  bold,  bright  stars 
Are  dark  as  death-dust?  ” 

18  2J3 


274 


C^SAE'S  COLUMN. 


And  oh,  what  a contrast  was  all  this  to  the 
clouded  world  we  had  left  behind  us,  in  yonder  close- 
packed  city,  with  its  poverty,  its  misery,  its  sin,  its 
injustice,  its  scramble  for  gold,  its  dark  hates  and 
terrible  plots.  But,  I said  to  myself,  while  God 
permits  man  to  wreck  himself,  he  denies  him  the 
power  to  destroy  the  world.  The  grass  covers  the 
graves ; the  flowers  grow  in  the  furrows  of  the 
cannon  balls ; the  graceful  foliage  festoons  with 
blossoms  the  ruins  of  the  prison  and  the  torture- 
chamber  ; and  the  corn  springs  alike  under  the  foot 
of  the  helot  or  the  yeoman.  And  I said  to  myself 
that,  even  though  civilization  should  commit  suicide, 
the  earth  would  still  remain — and  with  it  some 
remnant  of  mankind;  and  out  of  the  uniformity  of 
universal  misery  a race  might  again  arise  worthy 
of  the  splendid  heritage  God  has  bestowed  upon  us. 

Mr.  Jansen  had  closed  up  his  forge  in  honor  of 
our  visit,  and  had  donned  a new  broadcloth  suit,  in 
which  he  seemed  as  comfortable  as  a whale  in  an 
overcoat.  Christina  ran  out  to  meet  us,  bright  and 
handsome,  all  in  white,  with  roses  in  her  curly  hair. 
The  sweet-faced  old  lady  took  her  to  her  arms,  and 
called  her  “my  daughter,”  and  kissed  her,  and  ex- 
pressed her  pleasure  that  her  son  was  about  to 
marry  so  good  and  noble  a girl.  Mrs.  Jansen  held 
back  modestly  at  first,  a little  afraid  of  “the  great 
folks,”  but  she  was  brought  forward  by  Christina, 
and  introduced  to  us  all.  And  then  w’e  had  to  make 
the  acquaintance  of  the  whole  flock  of  blue-eyed,  curly- 
haired,  rosy-cheeked  little  ones,  gay  in  white  dresses 
and  bright  ribbons.  Even  Master  Ole  forgot,  for  a 
time,  his  enrapturing  hammer  and  nails,  and  stood, 
with  eyes  like  sancers,  contemplating  the  irruption  of 


CESAR’S  COLUMN. 


275 


outside  barbarians.  We  went  into  the  house,  and 
there,  with  many  a laugh  and  jest,  the  spectacled 
school-teacher  was  transformed  into  my  own  bright 
and  happy  Estella.  The  two  girls  flowed  into  one 
another,  by  natural  affinity,  like  a couple  of  drops  of 
quicksilver ; each  recognized  the  transparent  soul  in 
the  other,  and  in  a moment  they  were  friends  for 
life. 

We  were  a jolly  party.  Care  flew  far  away  from  us, 
and  many  a laugh  and  jest  resounded. 

“There  is  one  thing,  Christina,”  said  Max,  “that 
I cannot  comprehend,  and  of  which  I demand  an  ex- 
planation. Your  name  is  ‘Christina  Jansen,’  and 
yet  you  appeared  in  public  by  the  name  of  ‘ Christina 
Carlson.’  Now  I refuse  to  marry  you  until  this  tiling 
is  explained ; for  I may  be  arrested  and  charged  with 
bigamy  for  marrying  two  women  at  once ! I am  will- 
ing to  Aved  ‘Christina  Jansen’  — but  what  am  I to 
do  with  ‘ Christina  Carlson  ’ ? I could  be  ‘ happy  with 
either  were  t’other  dear  charmer  away.’  ” 

Christina  laughed  and  blushed  and  said : 

“ If  you  do  not  behave  yourself  you  shall  not  have 
either  of  the  Christinas.  But  I will  tell  you,  my  dear 
friend,  how  that  happened.  You  must  know  that  in 
our  Sweden,  especially  in  the  northern  part  of  it, 
where  father  and  mother  came  from,  we  are  a very 
primitive  people — far  ‘behind  the  age,’  you  will  say. 
And  there  we  have  no  family  names,  like  Brown  or 
Jones  or  Smith;  but  each  man  is  simply  the  son  of 
his  father,  and  he  takes  his  father’s  first  name. 
Thus  if ‘Peter’  has  a son  and  he  is  christened  ‘Ole,’ 
then  he  is  ‘Ole  Peterson,’  or  Ole  the  son  of  Peter; 
and  if  his  son  is  called  ‘John,’  then  he  is  ‘John  Ole- 
son.’  I think,  from  what  I have  read  in  the  books 


CAESAR’S  COLUMN. 


27fi 

you  gave  me,  Frank,  that  the  same  practice  pre- 
vailed, centuries  ago,  in  England,  and  that  is  how  all 
those  English  names,  such  as  Johnson,  Jackson,  Wil- 
liamson, etc.,  came  about.  But  the  females  of  the 
family,  in  Sweden,  are  called  ‘daughters’  or  ‘dot- 
ters ; ’ and  hence,  by  the  custom  of  my  race,  I am 
‘Christina  Carl’s  Dotter.’  And  when  Mr.  Bingham 
asked  me  my  name  to  print  on  his  play  bills,  that  is 
what  I answered  him;  but  he  said  ‘Christina  Carl’s 
Dotter  ’ was  no  name  at  all.  It  would  never  do ; and 
so  he  called  me  ‘ Christina  Carlson.’  There  you  have 
the  explanation  of  the  whole  matter.” 

“I  declare,”  said  Frank,  “this  thing  grows  worse 
and  worse!  Why,  there  are  three  of  you.  I shall 
have  to  wed  not  only  ‘Christina  Jansen,’  and 
‘Christina’  Carlson,’  but  ‘Christina  Carl’s  Dotter.’ 
Why,  that  would  be  not  only  bigamy,  but  trigamy!  ” 

And  then  Estella  came  to  the  rescue,  and  said 
that  she  felt  sure  that  Max  would  be  glad  to  have 
her  even  if  there  were  a dozen  of  her. 

And  Frank,  who  had  become  riotous,  said  to  me : 

“You  see,  old  fellow,  you  are  about  to  marry  a 
girl  with  a pedigree,  and  I another  without  one.” 

“No,”  said  Christina,  “I  deny  that  charge;  with 
us  the  very  name  we  bear  declares  the  pedigree.  I 
am  ‘Christina  Carl’s  Dotter,’  and  ‘Carl’  whs  the  son 
of  ‘John,’  who  was  the  son  of  ‘Frederick,’  who  was 
the  son  of  ‘Christian : ’ and  so  on  for  a hundred  gener- 
ations. I have  a long  pedigree;  and  I am  very 
proud  of  it;  and,  what  is  more,  they  were  all  good, 
honest,  virtuous  people.”  And  she  heightened  up  a 
bit.  And  then  Frank  kissed  her  before  us  all,  and 
she  boxed  his  ears,  and  then  dinner  was  announced. 

And  what  a pleasant  dinner  it  was:  the  vegeta- 


CESAR'S  COLUMN. 


277 


bles,  crisp  and  fresh,  were  from  their  own  garden ; 
and  the  butter  and  milk  and  cream  and  schmearkase 
from  their  own  dairy ; and  the  fruit  from  their  own 
trees ; and  the  mother  told  us  that  the  pudding  was 
of  Christina’s  own  making;  and  thereupon  Frank 
ate  more  of  it  than  was  good  for  him ; and  every- 
thing was  so  neat  and  bright,  and  everybody  so 
happy;  and  Frank  vowed  that  there  never  was 
before  such  luscious,  golden  butter;  and  Mrs.  Jan- 
sen told  us  that  that  was  the  way  they  made  it  in 
Sweden,  and  she  proceeded  to  explain  the  whole  pro- 
cess. The  only  unhappy  person  at  the  table,  it 
seemed  to  me,  was  poor  Carl,  and  he  had  a wretched 
premonition  that  he  was  certainly  going  to  drop 
some  of  the  food  on  that  brand-new'  broadcloth  suit 
of  his.  I feel  confident  that  when  we  took  our  de- 
parture he  hurried  to  take  off  that  overwhelming 
grandeur,  with  very  much  the  feeling  with  which  the 
dying  saint  shufltes  off  the  mortal  coil,  and  soars  to 
heaven. 

But  then,  in  the  midst  of  it  all,  there  came  across 
me  the  dreadful  thought  of  what  was  to  burst  upon 
the  world  in  a few  days;  and  I could  have  groaned 
aloud  in  anguish  of  spirit.  I felt  we  were  like  silly 
sheep  gamboling  on  the  edge  of  the  volcano.  But 
why  not?  We  had  not  brought  the  world  to  this 
pass.  Why  should  we  not  enjoy  the  sunshine,  and 
that  glorious  light,  brighter  than  all  sunshine — the 
love  of  woman?  For  God  alone,  who  made  woman 
— the  true  woman  — know’s  the  infinite  capacities  for 
good  which  he  has  inclosed  within  her  soul.  And  I 
don’t  believe  one  bit  of  that  orthodox  story.  I think 
Eve  ate  the  apple  to  obtain  knowledge,  and  Adam 
devoured  the  core  because  he  was  hungry. 


278 


C^SAR^S  COLUMN, 


And  these  thoughts,  of  course,  were  suggested  by 
my  looking  at  Estella.  She  and  Christina  were  in  a 
profound  conference;  the  two  shades  of  golden  hair 
mingling  curiously  as  they  whispered  to  each  other, 
and  blushed  and  laughed.  And  then  Estella  came 
over  to  me,  and  smiled  and  blushed  again,  and 
whispered : “ Christina  is  delighted  with  the  plan.” 

And  then  I said  to  Max,  in  a dignified,  solemn 
way: 

“ My  dear  Max,  or  Frank,  or  Arthur,  or  whatever 
thy  name  may  be — and  ‘if  thou  hast  no  other  name 
to  call  thee  by  I will  call  thee  devil’ — I have  observed, 
with  great  regret,  that  thou  art  very  much  afraid  of 
standing  up  to-morrow  and  encountering  in  wed- 
lock’s ceremony  the  battery  of  bright  eyes  of  the  three 
Christinas.  Now  I realize  that  a friend  should  not 
only  ‘bear  a friend’s  infirmities,’  but  that  he  should 
stand  by  him  in  the  hour  of  danger;  and  so  to-mor- 
row, ‘when  fear  comes  down  upon  you  like  a house,’ 
Estella  and  I have  concluded  to  stand  with  you,  in 
the  imminent  deadly  breach,  and  share  your  fate; 
and  if,  when  you  get  through,  there  are  any  of  the 
Christinas  left,  I will — with  Estella’s  permission — 
even  marry  them  myself!  For  I am  determined  that 
such  good  material  shall  not  go  to  waste.” 

There  was  a general  rejoicing,  and  Max  embraced 
me ; and  then  he  hugged  Christina ; and  then  I took 
advantage  of  the  excuse — I was  very  happy  in  find- 
ing such  excuses — to  do  likewfise  by  my  stately 
beauty ; and  then  there  was  hand-shaking  by  the  old 
folks  all  around,  and  kisses  from  the  little  folks. 

Not  long  afterward  there  was  much  whispering  and 
laughing  between  Christina  and  Estella ; they  were  in 
the  garden;  they  seemed  to  be  reading  some  paper, 


CESAR’S  COLUMN. 


279 


which  they  held  between  them.  And  then  that  scamp, 
Max,  crept  quietly  behind  them,  and,  reaching  over, 
snatched  the  paper  out  of  their  hands.  And  then 
Estella  looked  disturbed,  and  glanced  at  me  and 
blushed;  and  Max  began  to  dance  and  laugh,  and 
cried  out,  “Ho!  ho!  we  have  a poet  in  the  family!” 
And  then  I realized  that  some  verses,  which  I had 
given  Estella  the  day  before,  had  fallen  into  the 
hands  of  that  mocker.  I would  not  give  much  for  a 
man  who  does  not  grow  poetical  when  he  is  making 
love.  It  is  to  man  what  song  is  to  the  bird.  But  to 
have  one’s  weaknesses  exposed — that  is  another 
matter ! And  so  I ran  after  Max ; but  in  vain.  He 
climbed  into  a tree,  and  then  began  to  recite  my  love 
poetry : 

“Listen  to  this,”  he  cried;  “here  are  fourteen 
verses;  each  one  begins  and  ends  with  the  word 
‘ thee.’  Here’s  a sample : 

“‘All  thought,  all  fear,  all  grief,  all  earth,  all  air^ 

Forgot  shall  be ; 

Knit  unto  each,  to  each  kith,  kind  and  kin, — 

Life,  like  these  rhyming  verses,  shall  begin 
And  end  in — thee ! ’ 

“And  here,”  he  cried,  “is  another  long  poem. 
Phoebus!  what  a name — ‘Artesian  Waters!’ 

Here  Christina,  Estella  and  I pelted  the  rogue  with 
apples. 

“I  know  why  they  are  called  ‘Artesian  Abaters,’” 
he  cried;  “it  is  because  it  took  a great  bore  to  pro- 
duce them.  Ha ! ha ! But  listen  to  it : 

“ ‘ There  is  a depth  at  which  perpetual  springs 
Fresh  water,  in  all  lands : 

The  which  once  reached,  the  buried  torrent  flings 
Its  treasures  o’er  the  sands/ 


280 


CESAR’S  COLUMN. 


“ Ouch !”  he  cried,  “that  one  hit  me  on  the  nose: 
I mean  the  apple,  not  the  verse. 

* One  knows  not  how,  beneath  the  dark,  deep  crust, 

The  clear  flood  there  has  come : 

One  knows  not  why,  amid  eternal  dust, 

Slumbers  that  sea  of  foam.’ 

“Plain  enough,”  he  cried,  dodging  the  apples; 
“the  attraction  of  gravitation  did  the  business 
for  it. 

“ ‘ Dark-buried,  sepulchred,  entombed  and  deep, 

Away  from  mortal  ken. 

It  lies,  till,  summoned  from  its  silent  sleep, 

It  leaps  to  light  again.’ 

“Very  good,”  he  said,  “and  now  here  comes  the 
application,  the  moral  of  the  poem. 

“ ‘ So  shall  we  And  no  intellect  so  dull. 

No  soul  so  cold  to  move. 

No  heart  of  self  or  sinfulness  so  full. 

But  still  hath  power  to  love.’ 

“ Of  course,”  he  said ; “ he  knows  how  it  is  himself ; 
the  poet  fills  the  bill  exactly. 

‘‘  ‘ It  lives  immortal,  universal  all. 

The  tenant  of  each  breast ; 

Locked  in  the  silence  of  unbroken  thrall. 

And  deep  and  pulseless  rest ; 

Till,  at  a touch,  with  burst  of  power  and  pride. 

Its  swollen  torrents  roll. 

Dash  all  the  trappings  of  the  mind  aside. 

And  ride  above  the  soul.’ 

“ Hurrah ! ” he  cried,  “that’s  splendid ! But  here’s 
some  more : ‘ To  Estella.’  ” 

But  I could  stand  no  more,  and  so  began  to  climb 
the  tree.  It  was  an  apple-tree,  and  not  a very  big 
one  at  that,  and  Max  was  forced  to  retreat  oxit  upon 


CJESAIVS  COLUMN. 


281 


a limb,  and  then  drop  to  the  ground.  But  the  young 
ladies  were  too  quick  for  him ; they  pounced  upon 
him  as  he  fell ; and  very  soon  my  precious  verses  were 
hidden  in  Estella’s  bosom,  whence,  in  a burst  of  confi- 
dence and  pride,  they  had  been  taken  to  exhibit  to 
Christina. 

“Yes,”  said  Estella,  it  was  nothing  but  mean  jeal- 
ousy, because  he  could  not  write  such  beautiful  po- 
etry to  Christina. 

“Exactly,”  said  Christina,  “and  I think  I will  re- 
fuse to  marry  him  until  he  produces  some  verses 
equally  fine.” 

“Before  I would  write  such  poetry  as  that,”  said 
Max,  “I  would  go  and  hang  myself.” 

“No  man  ought  to  be  allowed  to  marry,”  said 
Estella,  “until  he  has  written  a poem.” 

“ If  you  drive  Max  to  that,”  I said,  “ other  people 
will  ha.ng  themselves  rather  than  hear  his  verses.” 

And  thus,  with  laugh  and  jest  and  badinage,  the 
^ glorious  hours  passed  away. 

It  was  growing  late ; but  we  could  not  go  until  we 
had  seen  the  cows  milked,  for  that  was  a great  event 
in  the  household;  and  “Bossy”  especially  was  a 
wonderful  cow. . Never  before  in  the  world  had  there 
been  such  a cow  as  “Bossy.”  The  children  had  tied 
some  ribbons  to  her  horns,  and  little  Ole  was  astride 
of  her  broad  back,  his  chubby  legs  pointing  directly 
to  the  horizon,  and  the  rest  of  the  juveniles  danced 
around  her;  while  the  gentle  and  patient  animal 
stood  chewing  her  cud,  with  a profound  look  upon 
her  peaceful  face,  much  like  that  of  a chief-justice 
considering  “ the  rule  in  Shelley’s  case,”  or  some 
other  equally  solemn  and  monientous  subject. 

And  I could  not  help  but  think  how  kindly  we 


CESAR'S  COLUMN. 


ssa 

should  feel  toward  these  good,  serviceable  ministers 
to  man ; for  I remembered  how  many  millions  of  our 
race  had  been  nurtured  through  childhood  and  ma- 
turity upon  their  generous  largess.  I could  see,  in 
my  imagination,  the  great  bovine  procession,  low- 
ing and  moving,  with  their  bleating  calves  trotting 
by  their  side,  stretching  away  backward,  farther  and 
farther,  through  all  the  historic  period ; through  all 
the  conquests  and  bloody  earth-staining  battles, 
and  all  the  sin  and  suffering  of  the  race;  and  far 
beyond,  even  into  the  dim,  pre-historic  age,  when  the 
Aryan  ancestors  of  all  the  European  nations  dwelt 
together  under  the  same  tents,  and  the  blond-haired 
maidens  took  their  name  of  ‘‘daughters”  (the  verj 
word  we  now  use)  from  their  function  of  milk- 
maidens.  And  it  seemed  to  me  that  we  should  love  a 
creature  so  intimatelj^  blended  with  the  history  of  our 
race,  and  which  had  done  so  much,  indirectly,  to  give 
us  the  foundation  on  which  to  build  civilization. 

But  we  must  away ; and  Carl,  glad  to  do  some- 
thing in  scenes  in  which  he  was  not  much  fitted  to 
shine,  drove  us  to  the  station  in  his  open  spring 
wagon;  Estella,  once  more  the  elderly,  spectacled 
maiden,  by  my  side;  and  the  sunny  little  Christina 
beside  Max’s  mother— going  to  the  station  to  see  us 
off;  while  that  gentleman,  on  the  front  seat,  talked 
learnedly  with  Carl  about  the  pedigree  of  the  famous 
horse  “Lia:htning,”  which  had  just  trotted  its  mile 
in  less  that,  fcwo  minutes. 

Aird  I thought,  as  I looked  at  Carl,  how  little  it 
takes  to  make  a happy  household;  and  what  a 
beautiful  thing  the  human  race  is  under  favorable 
circumstances;  and  what  a wicked  and  cruel  and 
utterly  abominable  thing  is  the  man  who  could 


CJ<:SA1VS  COLUMN-. 


283 


oppress  it,  and  drive  it  into  the  filth  of  sin  and 
shame. 

I will  not  trouble  you,  my  dear  brother,  by  giving 
you  a detailed  account  of  the  double  marriage  the 
next  day.  The  same  person  married  us  both  — a 
Scandinavian  preacher,  a friend  of  the  Jansen 
family.  I was  not  very  particular  w'ho  tied  the  knot 
and  signed  the  bill  of  sale  of  Estella,  provided  I was 
sure  the  title  was  good.  But  I do  think  that  the 
union  of  man  and  wife  should  be  something  more 
than  a mere  civil  contract.  Marriage  is  not  a part- 
nership to  sell  dry  goods — (sometimes,  it  is  true,  it 
is  principally  an  obligation  to  buy  them)  — or  to 
practice  medicine  or  law  together ; it  is,  or  should  be, 
an  intimate  blending  of  two  souls,  and  natures,  and 
lives;  and  where  the  marriage  is  happy  and  perfect 
there  is,  undoubtedly,  a growing-together,  not  only 
of  spirit  and  character,  but  even  in  the  physical  ap- 
pearance of  man  and  wife.  Now  as  these  two  souls 
came — we  concede — out  of  heaven,  it  seems  to  me 
that  the  ceremony  which  thus  destroys  their  indi- 
viduality, and  blends  them  into  one,  should  have 
some  touch  and  color  of  heaven  in  it  also. 

It  was  a very  happy  day. 

As  I look  back  upon  it  now  it  seems  to  me  like  one 
of  those  bright,  wide  rays  of  glorious  light  which  we 
have  sometimes  seen  bursting  through  a rift  in  the 
clouds,  from  the  setting  sun,  and  illuminating,  for  a 
brief  space  of  time,  the  black,  perturbed  and  con- 
vulsed sky.  One  of  our  poets  has  compared  it  to — 
‘‘A  dead  soldier’s  sword  athwart  his  pall.” 

But  it  faded  away,  and  the  storm  came  down,  at 
last,  heavy  and  dark  and  deadly. 


CHAPTER  XXX. 


UPON  THE  HOUSE-TOP. 

A FEW  days  after  our  joint  wedding  Max  came 
running  in  one  day,  and  said : 

“ It  is  to  be  to-morrow.” 

He  gave  each  of  us  a red  cross  to  sew  upon  our 
clothes.  He  was  very  much  excited,  and  hurried  out 
again. 

I had  said  to  him,  the  morning  of  our  marriage, 
that  I desired  to  return  home  before  the  outbreak 
came,  for  I was  now  responsible  for  Estella’s  life  and 
safety;  and  I feared  that  all  communication  of  one 
part  of  the  world  with  another  would  be  cut  off  by 
the  threatened  revolution.  He  had  begged  me  to  re- 
main. He  said  that  at  the  interview  with  General 
Quincy  it  had  been  made  a condition  of  the  con- 
tract that  each  of  the  executive  committee — Csesar, 
the  vice-president  and  himself — should  have  one  of 
the  flying  air-ships  placed  at  his  disposal,  after  the 
outbreak,  well  manned  and  equipped  with  bombs 
and  arms  of  all  kinds.  These  “Demons”  were  to  be 
subject  to  their  order  at  any  time,  and  to  be 
guarded  by  the  troops  at  their  magazine  in  one  of 
the  suburbs  until  called  for. 

The  committee  had  several  reasons  for  making 
this  arrangement : the  outbreak  might  fail  and  they 
would  have  to  fly;  or  the  outbreak  might  succeed, 
but  become  ungovernable,  and  they  would  have 
to  escape  from  the  tempest  they  had  themselves  in- 


CJSSAR'S  COLUMN. 


285 


voked.  Max  had  always  bad  a dream  that  alter  the 
Plutocracy  was  overthrown  the  insurgents  would  re- 
construct a purer  and  better  state  of  society ; but  of 
late  iny  conversations  with  him,  and  his  own  ob- 
servations, had  begun  to  shake  his  faith  in  this  par- 
ticular. 

He  said  to  me  that  if  I remained  he  would  guar- 
antee the  safety  of  myself  and  wife,  and  after  I had 
seen  the  outbreak  he  would  send  me  home  in  his  air- 
ship ; and  moreover,  if  he  became  satisfied  that  the 
revolution  had  passed  beyond  the  control  of  himself 
and  friends,  he  would,  after  rescuing  his  father  from 
the  prison  where  he  was  confined,  accompany  me 
with  his  whole  family,  and  we  would  settle  down  to- 
gether in  my  distant  mountain  home.  He  had,  ac- 
cordingly, turned  all  his  large  estate  into  gold  and 
silver,  which  he  had  brought  to  the  house ; and  I had 
likewise  filled  ona  large  room  full  of  a great  library 
of  books,  which  I had  purchased  to  take  with  me — 
literature,  science,  art,  encyclopedias,  histories,  phi- 
losophies, in  fact  all  the  treasures  of  the  world’s 
genius — together  with  type,  printing  presses,  tele- 
scopes, phonographs,  photographic  instruments,  elec- 
trical apparatus,  eclesions,  phemasticons,  and  all 
the  other  great  inventions  which  the  last  hundred 
years  have  given  us.  For,  I said  to  myself,  if  civil- 
ization utterly  perishes  in  the  rest  of  the  world, 
there,  in  the  mountains  of  Africa,  shut  out  from  at- 
tack by  rocks  and  ice-topped  mountains,  and  the 
cordon  of  tropical  barbarians  yet  surrounding  us, 
we  will  wait  until  exhausted  and  prostrate  mankind 
is  ready  to  listen  to  us  and  will  help  us  reconstruct 
society  upon  a wise  and  just  basis. 

In  the  afternoon  Max  returned,  bringing  with  him 


286 


CJSSAU'S  COLUMN. 


Carl  Jansen  and  all  liis  family.  A dozen  men  also 
came,  bearing  great  boxes.  They  were  old  and 
trusted  servants  of  his  father’s  family;  and  the 
boxes  contained  magazine  rifles  and  pistols  and  fixed 
ammunition,  together  with  hand-grenades.  These 
were  taken  out,  and  we  were  all  armed.  Even  the 
women  had  pistols,  and  knives  strapped  to  their 
girdles.  The  men  went  out  and  again  returned,  bear- 
ing quantities  of  food,  sufficient  to  last  us  during  a 
siege,  and  also  during  our  flight  to  my  home.  Water 
was  also  collected  in  kegs  and  barrels,  for  the  supply 
might  be  cut  of.  Then  Max  came,  and  under  his 
orders,  as  soon  as  night  fell,  the  lower  windows,  the 
cellar  openings  and  the  front  door  were  covered  with 
sheathings  of  thick  oak  plank,  of  three  thicknesses, 
strongly  nailed;  then  the  second  story  windows 
were  similarly  protected,  loop-holes  being  first  bored, 
through  which  our  rifles  could  be  thrust,  if  necessary. 
Then  the  upper  windows  were  also  covered  in  the 
same  w^ay.  The  back  door  w’as  left  free  for  ingress 
and  egress  through  the  yard  and  back  street,  but 
powerful  bars  were  arranged  across  it,  and  the  oak 
plank  left  ready  to  board  it  up  when  required.  The 
hand-grenades — there  were  a pile  of  them — were  car- 
ried up  to  the  flat  roof.  Then  one  of  the  men  went 
out  and  painted  red  crosses  on  the  doors  and  win- 
dows. 

We  ate  our  supper  in  silence.  A feeling  of  awe 
was  upon  all  of  us.  Every  one  was  told  to  pack  up 
his  goods  and  valuables  and  be  ready  for  instant 
flight  when  the  word  was  given ; and  to  each  one  were 
assigned  the  articles  he  or  she  was  to  carry. 

About  ten  o’clock  Max  returned  and  told  us  all  to 
come  up  to  the  roof.  The  house  stood,  as  I have  al- 


C.^SAIVS  COLUMN. 


287 


ready  said/iipon  a corner;  it  was  in  the  older  part  of 
the  city,  and  not  far  from  where  the  first  great  battle 
would  be  fought.  Max  whispered  to  me  that  the 
blow  would  be  struck  at  six  o’clock  in  Europe  and  at 
twelve  o’clock  at  night  in  America.  The  fighting 
therefore  had  already  begun  in  the  Old  World.  He 
further  explained  to  me  something  of  the  plan  of  bat- 
tle. The  Brotherhood  at  twelve  would  barricade  a 
group  of  streets  in  which  were  the  Sub-Treasury  of 
the  United  States,  and  all  the  principal  banks,  to-wit: 
Cedar,  Pine,  Wall,  Nassau,  William,  Pearl  and  Water 
Streets.  Two  hundred  thousand  men  would  be 
assembled  to  guard  these  barricades.  They  would 
then  burst  open  the  great  moneyed  institutions  and 
blow  up  the  safes  with  giant  powder  and  Hecla  pow- 
der. At  daybreak  one  of  Quincy’s  air-ships  would 
come  and  receive  fifty  millions  of  the  spoils  in  gold, 
as  their  share  of  the  plunder,  and  the  price  of  their 
support.  As  soon  as  this  was  delivered,  and  carried 
to  their  armory,  the  whole  fleet  of  air-vessels  would 
come  up  and  attack  the  troops  of  the  01igarch3^  If, 
however.  General  Quincy  should  violate  his  agree- 
ment, and  betray  them,  they  had  provided  a large 
number  of  great  cannon,  mounted  on  high  wheels,  so 
that  they  could  be  flred  vertically,  and  these  were  to 
be  loaded  with  bombs  of  the  most  powerful  explo- 
sives known  to  science,  and  so  constructed  with  ful- 
minating caps  that,  if  they  struck  the  air-ship  at 
any  point,  they  would  explode  and  either  destroy  it 
or  so  disarrange  its  machinery  as  to  render  it  use- 
less. Thus  they  were  provided,  he  thought,  for  every 
emergency. 

At  eleven  he  came  to  me  and  whispered  that  if 
anything  happened  to  him  he  depended  on  me  to 


288 


CESAR’S  COLUMN. 


take  his  wife  and  mother  and  his  father,  if  possible, 
with  me  to  Africa.  I grasped  his  hand  and  assured 
him  of  my  devotion.  He  then  embraced  Christina 
and  his  mother  and  left  them,  weeping  bitterly,  in 
each  other’s  arms. 

There  was  a parapet  around  the  roof.  I went  to 
the  corner  of  it,  and,  leaning  over,  looked  down  into 
the  street.  Estella  came  and  stood  beside  me.  She 
was  very  calm  and  quiet.  The  magnetic  lights  yet 
burned,  and  the  streets  below  me  were  almost  as 
bright  as  day.  There  were  comparatively  few  per- 
sons moving  about.  Here  and  there  a carriage,  or  a 
man  on  horseback,  dashed  furiously  past,  at  full 
speed ; and  I thought  to  myself,"  The  Oligarchy  have 
heard  of  the  tremendous  outbreak  in  Europe,  and 
are  making  preparations  for  another  here.”  It  was 
a still,  clear  night ; and  the  great  solemn  stars  moved 
over  the  face  of  heaven  unconscious  or  indifferent  as 
to  what  was  going  forward  on  this  clouded  little  orb. 

I thought  it  must  be  nearly  twelve.  I drew  out 
my  watch  to  look  at  the  time.  It  lacked  one  minute 
of  that  hour.  Another  instant,  and  the  whole  city 
was  wrapped  in  profound  darkness.  Some  of  the 
workmen  about  the  Magnetic  Works  were  members 
of  the  Brotherhood,  and,  in  pursuance  of  their  orders, 
they  had  cut  the  connections  of  the  works  and 
blotted  out  the  light. 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 


“SHEOL.” 

I LOOKED  down  into  the  dark  street.  I could  see 
nothing;  but  immediately  a confused  buzz  and  mur- 
mur, of  motion  everywhere,  arose  from  the  depths 
below  me.  As  it  grew  louder  and  clearer  I could  hear 
the  march  of  thousands  of  feet,  moving  rapidly;  and 
then  a number  of  wagons,  heavily  loaded,  creaked 
and  groaned  over  the  pavements.  I surmised  that 
these  wagons  were  loaded  with  stones,  and  were  to  be 
used  in  the  construction  of  the  barricades.  There  was 
no  music,  no  shouting,  not  even  the  sound  of  voices ; 
but  tramp,  tramp,  tramp,  in  endless  multitude,  the 
heavy  feet  went  by;  and  now  and  then,  where  the 
light  yet  streamed  out  of  the  window  of  some  house, 
I could  see  the  glitter  of  the  steel  barrels  of  rifles ; and 
here  and  there  I caught  a glimpse  of  men  on  horse- 
back, officers  apparently,  but  dressed  in  the  rough 
garb  of  workmen.  Along  the  line  of  the  houses  near 
me,  I could  see,  at  opened,  lighted  windows,  an  array 
of  pale  faces,  looking  out  with  astonishment  and 
terror  at  this  dark  and  silent  procession,  which 
seemed  to  have  arisen  out  of  the  earth,  and  was  so 
vast  that  one  might  dream  that  the  trumpet  of  the 
archangel  had  been  blown,  and  all  the  dead  of  a 
thousand  battle-fields  had  risen  up  for  one  last 
grand  review.  And  not  alone  past  our  doors,  but 
through  all  the  streets  near  us,  the  same  mighty, 
voiceless  procession  moved  on ; all  converging  to  the 

19  *89 


290 


CMSATt’S  COLUMN. 


quarter  where  the  treasures  of  the  great  city  lay, 
heaped  up  in  safe  and  vault. 

And  then,  several  blocks  away,  but  within  the 
clear  range  of  my  vision,  a light  appeared  in  the 
street — it  blazed — it  rose  . higher  and  higher.  I 
could  see  shadowy  figures  moving  around  it,  heap- 
ing boxes,  barrels  and  other  combustibles  upon  the 
flame.  It  was  a bonfire,  kindled  to  light  the  work  of 
building  a barricade  at  that  point.  Across  the 
street  a line  of  wagons  had  been  placed ; the  tail  of 
each  one  touching  the  front  of  another,  the  horses 
having  been  withdrawn.  And  then  hundreds  of  busy 
figures  were  to  be  seen  at  work,  tearing  up  the  pave- 
ments of  the  street  and  heaping  the  materials  under 
the  wagons;  and  then  shovels  flew,  and  the  earth 
rose  over  it  all;  a deep  ditch  being  excavated  "quite 
across  the  street,  on  the  side  near  me.  The  men,  lit 
by  the  red  light,  looked,  at  the  distance,  like  hordes 
of  busy  black  insects.  Behind  them  swarmed,  as  far 
as  I could  see,  thousands  upon  thousands  of  dark 
forms,  mere  masses,  touched  here  and  there  by  the 
light  of  the  bonfire,  gleaming  on  glittering  steel. 
They  were  the  men  within  the  barricades.  There  was 
a confused  noise  in  other  quarters,  which  I supposed 
was  caused  by  the  erection  of  a number  of  similar 
barricades  elsewhere.  Then  the  tramp  of  the  march- 
ing masses  past  our  doors  ceased;  and  for  a time 
the  silence  was  profound. 

So  far  not  a soldier  or  policeman  had  been  visible. 
The  Oligarchy  were  evidently  carrying  out  the  plan 
of  the  Prince  of  Cabano.  They  were  permitting  the 
insurgents  to  construct  their  “rat-trap”  without 
interruption.  Only  a few  stragglers  were  upon  the 
street,  drawn  there  doubtless  by  curiosity;  and 


CMSAR’S  COLUMN. 


291 


still  the  pale  faces  were  at  the  windows;  and  some 
even  talked  from  window  to  window,  and  wondered 
what  it  all  meant. 

Suddenly  there  was  a terrific  explosion  that  shook 
the  house.  I could  see  a shower  of  stones  and  brick 
and  timbers  and  dust,  rising  like  a smoke,  seamed 
with  fire,  high  in  the  air,  within  the  lines  of  the  barri- 
cades. Then  came  another,  even  louder;  then 
another,  and  another,  and  another,  until  it  sounded 
like  a bombardment.  Then  these  ceased,  and  after  a 
little  time  came  the  sounds  of  smaller  explosions, 
muffled  as  if  under  ground  or  within  walls. 

“They  are  blowing  open  the  banks,”  I whispered 
to  Estella. 

Then  all  was  quiet  for  a space.  In  a little  while 
the  bombardment  began  again,  as  if  in  another  part 
of  the  territory  inclosed  in  the  barricades. 

And  still  there  was  not  a soldier  to  be  seen  in  the 
deserted  streets  near  me. 

And  again  came  other  explosions. 

At  last  I saw  the  red  light  beginning  to  touch  the 
clouds  along  the  eastern  horizon  with  its  crimson 
brush.  The  fateful  day  was  dawning. 

And  then,  in  a little  while,  far  away  to  the  north, 
soft  and  dull  at  first,  but  swelling  gradually  into 
greater  volume,  a mighty  sound  arose,;  and  through 
it  I could  hear  bursts  of  splendid  melody,  rising  and 
falling  and  fluttering,  like  pennons,  above  the  tumult ; 
and  I recognized  the  notes  of  that  grand  old  Scotch 
air,  “The  Campbells  are  Coming.” 

It  was  the  defenders  of  society  advancing  with  the 
swinging  step  of  assured  triumph. 

Oh,  it  was  a splendid  sight ! In  all  the  bravery  of 
banners,  and  uniforms,  and  shining  decorations,  and 


292 


C^SAE'S  COLUMN. 


amidst  the  majestic  and  inspix’iting  outpouring  of 
music,  they  swept  along,  the  thousands  moving  as 
one.  How  they  did  contrast  with  that  gloomy, 
dark,  ragged,  sullen  multitude  who  had  preceded 
them.  And  with  them  came,  rattling  along,  multi- 
tudes of  those  dreadful  machine  guns — those  cata- 
racts of  fire  and  death — drawn  by  prancing,  well-fed, 
shining  horses.  And  the  lips  of  the  gunners  were  set 
for  carnage ; for  they  had  received  orders  to  take  no 
prisoners!  The  world  was  to  be  taught  a lesson  to- 
day— a bloody  and  an  awful  lesson.  Ah!  little  did 
they  think  how  it  would  be  taught  I 

In  the  gray  light  of  the  breaking  day  they  came 
— an  endless  multitude.  And  all  the  windows  were 
white  with  waving  handkerchiefs,  and  the  air  stormy 
with  huzzas  and  cries  of  ’‘God  bless  you.”  And  at 
the  head  of  every  column,  on  exuberant  steeds,  that 
seemed  as  if  they  would  leap  out  of  their  very  skins 
with  the  mere  delight  of  living,  rode  handsome  offi- 
cers, smiling  and  bowing  to  the  ladies  at  the  win- 
dows;— for  was  it  not  simply  holiday  work  to  slay 
the  canaille — the  insolent  canaille — the  unreason- 
able dogs — who  demanded  some  share  in  the  world’s 
delights — who  were  not  willing  to  toil  and  die  that 
others  might  live  and  be  happy?  And  the  very 
music  had  a revengeful,  triumphant  ring  and  sting 
to  it,  as  if  every  instrument  cried  out : “Ah,  we  will 
give  it  to  them  I ” 

But  it  was  splendid  I It  was  the  very  efflorescence 
of  the  art  of  war — the  culmination  of  the  evolution 
of  destruction — the  perfect  flower  of  ten  thousand 
years  of  battle  and  blood.  , 

But  I heard  one  officer  cry  out  to  another,  as  they 
passed  below  me; 


CjESAR'S  column. 


293 


“ What’s  the  matter  with  the  Demons  ? Why  are 
they  not  here?” 

“I  can’t  say,”  replied  the  one  spoken  to;  “but 
they  will  be  here  in  good  time.” 

The  grand  and  mighty  stream  of  men  poured  on. 
They  halted  close  to  the  high  barricade.  It  was  a 
formidable  structure  at  least  fifteen  feet  high  and 
many  feet  in  thickness.  The  gray  of  dawn  had 
turned  into  red,  and  a pale,  clear  light  spread  over 
all  nature.  I heard  some  sparrows,  just  awakened, 
twittering  and  conversing  in  a tall  tree  near  me. 
They,  too,  w'ondered,  doubtless,  what  it  all  meant, 
and  talked  it  over  in  their  own  language. 

The  troops  deployed  right  and  left,  and  soon  the 
insurgent  mass  was  closely  surrounded  in  every  di- 
rection and  every  outlet  closed.  The  “rat-trap” 
was  set.  Where  were  the  rat-killers?  I could  see 
many  a neck  craned,  and  many  a face  lifted  up,  look- 
ing toward  the  west,  for  their  terrible  allies  of  the 
air.  But  they  came  not. 

There  was  a dead  pause.  It  was  the  stillness  be- 
fore the  thunder. 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 

THE  RAT-TRAP. 

Some  of  the  troops  advanced  toward  the  barri- 
cade. Instantly  the  long  line  of  its  top  bristled  with 
lire ; the  lire  was  returned ; the  rattle  w^as  contin- 
uous and  terrible,  mingled  with  the  rapid,  grinding 
noise  of  the  machine  guns.  The  sound  spread  in 
every  direction.  The  barricades  Avere  all  attacked. 

Suddenly  the  noise  began  to  decrease.  It  was  as 
if  some  noble  orator  had  begun  to  speak  in  the 
midst  of  a tumultuous  assembly.  Those  nearest 
him  catch  his  utterances  first,  and  become  quiet;  the 
wave  of  silence  spreads  like  a great  ripple  in  the 
water ; until  at  last  the  Avhole  audience  is  as  hushed 
as  death.  So  something — some  extraordinary 
thing  — had  arrested  the  battle;  down,  down, 
dropped  the  tumult ; and  at  last  there  were  only  a 
few  scattering  shots  to  be  heard,  here  and  there ; and 
then  these,  too,  ceased. 

I could  see  the  soldiers  looking  to  the  west.  I 
swept  the  sky  with  my  glass.  Yes,  something  por- 
tentous had  indeed  happened ! Instead  of  the  whole 
dark  flight  of  thousands  of  air-ships  for  which  the 
soldiers  had  been  looking,  there  came,  athwart  the 
sky,  like  a great  black  bird,  a single  Demon. 

As  it  approached  it  seemed  to  be  signaling  some 
one.  Little  flags  of  different  colors  were  run  up  and 
taken  down.  I turned  and  looked  to  the  barricaded 

district.  And  there  on  the  top  of  a very  high  build- 

294 


CESAR’S  COLUMN. 


295 


ing,  in  its  midst,  I could  see  a group  of  men.  They, 
too,  were  raising  and  lowering  little  flags.  Nearer 
and  nearer  swept  the  great  bird ; every  eye  and  many 
a fleld-glass  in  all  that  great  throng  were  fastened 
upon  it,  with  awe-struck  interest — the  insurgents  re- 
joicing; the  soldiers  perplexed.  Nearer  and  nearer  it 
comes. 

Now  it  pauses  right  over  the  tall  building;  it  be- 
gins to  descend,  like  a sea-gull  about  to  settle  in  the 
waves.  Now  it  is  but  a short  distance  above  the 
roof.  I could  see  against  the  bright  sky  the  gossa- 
mer traces  of  a rope  ladder,  falling  down  from  the 
ship  to  the  roof.  The  men  below  take  hold  of  it  and 
steady  it.  A man  descends.  Something  about  him 
glitters  in  the  rising  sun.  He  is  probably  an  officer. 
He  reaches  the  roof.  They  bow  and  shake  hands. 
I can  see  him  wave  his  hand  to  those  above  him. 
A line  of  men  descend;  they  disappear  in  the  build- 
ing; they  reappear;  they  mount  the  ladder;  again 
and  again  they  come  and  go. 

“They  are  removing  the  treasure,”  I explain  to 
our  party,  gathering  around  me. 

Then  the  officer  shakes  hands  again  with  the  men 
on  the  roof;  they  bow  to  each  other;  he  reascends 
the  ladder;  the  air-ship  rises  in  the  air,  higher  and 
higher,  like  an  eagle  regaining  its  element ; and  away 
it  sails,  back  into  the  west. 

An  age  of  bribery  terminates  in  one  colossal  crime 
of  corruption! 

I can  see  the  officers  gathering  in  groups  and  tak- 
ing counsel  together.  They  are  alarmed.  Then  they 
write.  They  must  tell  the  Oligarchy  of  this  singular 
scene,  and  their  suspicions,  and  put  them  on  their 
guard.  There  is  danger  in  the  air.  In  a moment 


296 


CESAR’S  COLUMN. 


orderlies  dash  down  the  street  in  headlong  race, 
bearing  dispatches.  In  a little  while  they  come  back, 
hurrying,  agitated.  I look  to  the  north.  1 can 
see  a black  line  across  the  street.  It  is  a high  barri- 
cade. It  has  been  quietly  constructed  while  the  fight 
raged.  And  beyond,  far  as  my  eyes  can  penetrate, 
there  are  dark  masses  of  armed  men. 

The  orderlies  report — there  is  movement — agita- 
tion. I can  see  the  imperious  motions  of  an  officer, 
lean  read  the  signs.  He  is  saying,  “Back — back — 
for  your  lives ! Break  out  through  the  side  streets ! ” 
They  rush  away ; they  divide ; into  every  street  they 
turn.  Alas!  in  a few  minutes,  like  wounded  birds, 
they  come  trailing  back.  There  is  no  outlet.  Every 
street  is  blockaded,  barricaded,  and  filled  with  huge 
masses  of  men.  The  rat-trap  has  another  rat-trap 
outside  of  it ! 

The  Oligarchy  will  wait  long  for  those  dispatches. 
They  will  never  read  them  this  side  of  eternity.  The 
pear  has  ripened.  The  inevitable  has  come.  The 
world  is  about  to  shake  off  its  masters. 

There  is  dead  silence.  Why  should  the  military 
renew  the  fight  in  the  midst  of  the  awful  doubt  that 
rests  upon  their  souls? 

Ah!  we  will  soon  know  the  best  or  worst;  for, 
far  away  to  the  west,  dark,  portentous  as  a thunder- 
cloud-spread out  like  the  wings  of  mighty  armies— 
moving  like  a Fate  over  the  bright  sky,  comes  on  the 
vast  array  of  the  Demons. 

“Will”' they  be  faithful  to  their  bargain?”  I ask 
myself;  “or  will  old  loyalty  and  faith  to  their  mas- 
ters rise  up  in  their  hearts?  ” 

No,  no,  it  is  a rotten”  age.  Corruption  sticks 
faster  than  love. 


CESAR'S  COLUMN. 


297 


On  they  come ! Thousands  of  them.  They  swoop, 
they  circle;  thej'^  pause  above  the  insurgents.  The 
soldiers  rejoice ! Ah,  no ! No  bomb  falls,  a meteor  of 
death.  They  separate ; they  move  north,  south,  east, 
west;  they  are  above  the  streets  packed  full  of  the 
troops  of  the  government ! 

May  God  have  mercy  on  them  now!  The  sight 
will  haunt  me  to  my  dying  day.  I can  see,  like  a 
great  black  rain  of  gigantic  drops,  the  lines  of  the 
falling  bombs  against  the  clear  blue  sky. 

And,  oh,  my  God ! what  a scene  below,  in  those 
close-packed  streets,  among  those  gaily  dressed  mul- 
titudes! The  dreadful  astonishment!  The  crash — 
the  bang — the  explosions;  the  uproar,  the  con- 
fusion ; and,  most  horrible  of  all,  the  inevitable,  in- 
visible death  by  the  poison. 

The  line  of  the  barricade  is  alive  with  fire.  With 
my  glass  I can  almost  see  the  dynamite  bullets  ex- 
ploding in  the  soldiers,  tearing  them  to  pieces,  like 
internal  volcanoes. 

An  awful  terror  is  upon  them.  They  surge  back- 
ward and  forward;  then  they  rush  headlong  down 
the  streets.  The  farther  barricades  open  upon  them 
a hail  of  death;  and  the  dark  shadows  above— so 
well  named  Demons— slide  slowly  after  them;  and 
drop,  drop,  drop,  the  deadly  missiles  fall  again 
among  them. 

Back  they  surge.  The  poison  is  growing  thicker. 
They  scream  for  mercy;  they  throw  away  their 
guns;  they  are  panic-stricken.  They  break  open  the 
doors  of  houses  and  hide  themselves.  But  even  here 
the  devilish  plan  of  Prince  Cabano  is  followed  out 
to  the  very  letter.  The  triumphant  mob  pour  in 
through  the  back  yards;  and  they  bayonet  the 


298 


CESAR’S  COLUMN. 


soldiers  unde?  beds,  or  in  closets,  or  in  cellars ; or 
toss  them,  alive  and  shrieking,  from  windows  or 
roofs,  down  into  the  deadly  gulf  below. 

And  still  the  bombs  drop  and  crash,  and  drop 
and  crash ; and  the  barricades  are  furnaces  of  living 
fire.  The  dead  lie  in  heaps  and  layers  in  the  invisi- 
ble, pernicious  poison. 

But,  lo ! the  fire  slackens ; the  bombs  cease  to  fall ; 
only  now  and  then  a victim  flies  out  of  the  houses, 
cast  into  death.  There  is  nothing  left  to  shoot  at. 
The  grand  army  of  the  Plutocracy  is  annihilated ; it 
is  not. 

“The  Demons”  moved  slowly  off.  They  had 
earned  their  money.  The  Mamelukes  of  the  Air 
had  turned  the  tables  upon  the  Sultan.  They  retired 
to  their  armory,  doubtless  to  divide  the  fifty  millions 
equitably  between  them. 

The  mob  stood  still  for  a few  minutes.  They 
could  scarcely  realize  that  they  were  at  last  masters 
of  the  city.  But  quickly  a full  sense  of  all  that  their 
tremendous  victory  signified  dawned  upon  them. 
The  city  lay  prostrate,  chained,  waiting  to  be  seized 
upon. 


CHAPTER  XXXIII. 

“the  ocean  overpeeks  its  list.” 

And  then  all  avenues  were  open.  And  like  a 
huge  flood,  long  dammed  up,  turbulent,  turbid, 
muddy,  loaded  with  wrecks  and  debris,  the  gigantic 
mass  broke  loose,  full  of  foam  and  terror,  and  flowed 
in  every  direction.  A foul  and  brutal  and  ravenous 
multitude  it  was,  dark  with  dust  and  sweat,  armed 
with  the  weapons  of  civilization,  but  possessing  only 
the  instincts  of  wild  beasts. 

At  first  they  were  under  the  control  of  some  spe- 
cies of  discipline  and  moved  toward  the  houses  of 
the  condemned,  of  whom  printed  catalogues  had 
been  furnished  the  officers.  The  shouts,  the  yells,  the 
delight  were  appalling. 

Now  and  then  some  poor  wretch,  whose  sole  of- 
fense was  that  he  was  well-dressed,  would  take  fright 
and  start  to  run,  and  then,  like  hounds  after  a rab- 
bit, they  would  follow  in  full  cry ; and  when  he  was 
caught  a hundred  men  would  struggle  to  strike  him, 
and  he  would  disappear  in  a vortex  of  arms,  clubs 
and  bayonets,  literally  torn  to  pieces. 

A sullen  roar  fllled  the  air  as  this  human  cyclone 
moved  onward,  leaving  only  wTecks  behind  it.  Now 
it  pauses  at  a house.  The  captain  consults  his  cata- 
logue. “This  is  it,”  he  cries;  and  doors  and  win- 
dows give  way  before  the  thunderous  mob ; and  then 
the  scenes  are  terrible.  Men  are  flung  headlong, 
alive,  out  of  the  windows  to  the  ravenous  wretches 


800  CJESAR’S  COLUMN. 

below ; now  a dead  body  comes  whirling  down ; then 
the  terrified  inhabitants  fiy  to  the  roofs,  and  are 
pursued  from  house  to  house  and  butchered  in  sight 
of  the  delighted  spectators.  But  when  the  con- 
demned man — the  head  of  the  house — is  at  last 
found,  hidden  perhaps  in  some  coal-hole  or  cellar, 
and  is  brought  up,  black  with  dust,  and  wild  with 
terror,  his  clothes  half  torn  from  his  back ; and  he  is 
thrust  forth,  out  of  door  or  window,  into  the  claws 
of  the  wild  beasts,  the  very  heavens  ring  with  ac- 
clamations of  delight;  and  happy  is  the  man  who 
can  reach  over  his  fellows  and  know  that  he  has 
struck  the  victim. 

Then  up  and  away  for  another  vengeance.  Before 
them  is  solitude;  shops  and  stores  and  residences  are 
closed  and  barricaded;  in  the  distance  teams  are 
seen  fiying  and  men  scurrying  to  shelter ; and 
through  crevices  in  shutters  the  horrified  people  peer 
at  the  mob,  as  at  an  invasion  of  barbarians. 

Behind  them  are  dust,  confusion,  dead  bodies, 
hammered  and  beaten  out  of  all  semblance  of  hu- 
manity; and,  worse  than  all,  the  criminal  classes — 
that  wretched  and  inexplicable  residuum,  who  have 
no  grievance  against  the  world  except  their  own 
existence  — the  base,  the  cowardly,  the  cruel,  the 
sneaking,  the  inhuman,  the  horrible ! These  flock  like 
jackals  in  the  track  of  the  lions.  They  rob  the  dead 
bodies ; they  break  into  houses ; they  kill  if  they  are 
resisted;  they  fill  their  pockets.  Their  joy  is  un- 
bounded. Elysium  has  descended  upon  earth  for 
them  this  day.  Pickpockets,  sneak-thieves,  confi- 
dence-men, burglars,  robbers,  assassins,  the  refuse 
and  outpouring  of  grog-shops  and  brothels,  all  are 
here.*“  And  women,  too — or  creatures  that  pass  for 


CESAR’S  COLUMN. 


001 


such— having  the  bodies  of  women  and  the  habits  of 
ruffians; — harpies  — all  claws  and  teeth  and  greed  — 
bold  — desperate  — shameless  — incapable  of  good. 
They,  too,  are  here.  They  dart  hither  and  thither ; 
they  swarm  — they  dance— they  howl — they  chatter 
— they  quarrel  and  battle,  like  carrion-vultures,  over 
the  spoils. 

Civilization  is  gone,  and  all  the  devils  are  loose! 
No  more  courts,  nor  judges,  nor  constables,  nor 
prisons!  That  which  it  took  the  world  ten  thou- 
sand years  to  create  has  gone  in  an  hour. 

And  still  the  thunderous  cyclones  move  on 
through  a hundred  streets.  Occasionally  a house  is 
fired ; but  this  is  not  part  of  the  programme,  for  they 
have  decided  to  keep  all  these  fine  residences  for 
themselves!  They  will  be  rich.  They  will  do  no 
more  work.  The  rich  man’s  daughters  shall  be  their 
handmaidens;  they  will  wear  his  purple  and  fine 
linen. 

But  now  and  then  the  flames  rise  up — perhaps  a 
thief  kindles  the  blaze — and  it  burns  and  burns;  for 
who  would  leave  the  glorious  work  to  put  it  out? 
It  burns  until  the  streets  stop  it  and  the  block  is  con- 
sumed. Fortunately,  or  unfortunately,  there  is  no 
wind  to  breed  a general  conflagration.  The  storms 
to-day  are  all  on  earth;  and  the  powers  of  the  air  are 
looking  down  with  hushed  breath,  horrified  at  the 
exceeding  wickedness  of  the  little  crawlers  on  the 
planet  we  call  men. 

They  do  not,  as  a rule,  steal.  Revenge — revenge 
—is  all  their  thought.  And  why  should  they  steal? 
Is  it  not  all  their  own?  Now  and  then  a too  auda- 
cious thief  is  caught  and  stuck  full  of  bayonets ; or 
he  is' flung  out  of  a window,  and  dies  at  the  hands 


302 


CESAR’S  COLUMN. 


of  the  mob  the  death  of  the  honest  man  for  whom 
he  is  mistaken ; and  thus,  by  a horrible  travesty  of 
fate,  he  perishes  for  that  which  he  never  was  nor 
could  be. 

Think  of  the  disgust  of  a thief  who  finds  himself 
being  murdered  for  an  honest  man,  an  aristocrat, 
and  can  get  no  one  to  believe  his  asseverations 
that  he  is  simply  and  truly  a thief — and  nothing 
more ! It  is  enough  to  make  Death  grin ! 

The  rude  and  begrimed  insurgents  are  raised  by 
their  terrible  purposes  to  a certain  dignity.  They 
are  the  avengers  of  time — the  God-sent — therighters 
of  the  world’s  wrongs — the  punishers  of  the  ineffably 
wicked.  They  do  not  mean  to  destroy  the  world; 
they  will  reform  it — redeem  it.  They  will  make  it  a 
world  where  there  shall  be  neither  toil  nor  oppres- 
sion. But,  poor  fellows!  their  arms  are  more  po- 
tent' for  evil  than  their  brains  for  good.  They  are 
omnipotent  to  destroy ; they  are  powerless  to  create. 

But  still  the  work  of  ruin  and  slaughter  goes  on. 
The  mighty  city,  wdth  its  ten  million  inhabitants,  lies 
prostrate,  chained,  helpless,  at  the  mercy  of  the 
enraged  canaille.  The  dogs  have  become  lions. 

The  people  cannot  comprehend  it.  They  look 
around  for  their  defenders — the  police,  the  soldiery. 
“ Where  are  they?  Will  not  this  dreadful  nightmare 
pass  away?”  No;  no;  never — never.  This  is  the 
culmination — this  is  the  climax — “the  century’s 
aloe  flowers  to-day.”  These  are  “the  grapes  of 
wrath”  which  God  has  stored  up  for  the  day  of  his 
vengeance;  and  now  he  is  trampling  them  out,  and 
this  is  the  red  juice — look  you  I — that  flows  so  thick 
and  fast  in  the  very  gutters. 

You  were  blind,  you  were  callous,  you  were  indif- 


CESAR’S  COLUMN. 


303 


ferent  to  the  sorrows  of  your  kind.  The  cry  of  the 
poor  did  not  touch  you,  and  every  pitiful  appeal 
wrung  from  human  souls,  every  groan  and  sob  and 
shriek  of  men  and  women,  and  the  little  starving  chil- 
dren— starving  in  body  and  starving  in  brain — rose 
up  and  gathered  like  a great  cloud  around  the  throne 
of  God ; and  now,  at  last,  in  the  fullness  of  time,  it 
has  burst  and  comes  down  upon  your  wretched 
heads,  a storm  of  thunderbolts  and  blood. 

You  had  money,  you  had  power,  you  had  leisure, 
you  had  intelligence,  you  possessed  the  earth;  all 
things  were  possible  unto  you.  Did  you  say  to  one 
another:  “These  poor  souls  are  our  brethren.  For 
them  Christ  died  on  Calvary.  What  can  we  do  to 
make  their  lives  bright  and  happy?”  No;  no;  you 
^ cried  out,  “‘On  with  the  dance!’  Let  them  go  down 
into  the  bottomless  pit  1 ” 

And  you  smiled  and  said  to  one  another,  in  the 
words  of  the  first  murderer,  when  he  lied  to  God: 
“Am  I my  brother’s  keeper?  ” Nay,  you  said  further 
to  one  another,  “ There  is  no  God!”  For  you  thought, 
if  there  was  one,  surely  He  would  not  permit  the  in- 
justice manifest  in  the  world.  But,  lo!  He  is  here. 
Did  you  think  to  escape  him?  Did  you  think  the 
great  Father  of  Cause  and  Effect — the  All-knowing, 
the  universe-building  God, — would  pass  you  by? 

As  you  sowed,  so  must  you  reap.  Evil  has  but 
one  child — Death ! For  hundreds  of  years  you  have 
nursed  and  nurtured  Evil.  Do  you  complain  if  her 
monstrous  progeny  is  here  now,  with  sword  and 
torch?  What  else  did  you  expect?  Did  you  think 
she  would  breed  angels? 

Y'our  ancestors,  more  than  two  centuries  ago, 
established  and  permitted  Slavery.  What  was  the 


304 


CjESAR’S  column. 


cry  of  the  bondman  to  them?  What  the  sobs  of 
the  mother  torn  from  her  child — the  wife  from  her 
husband — on  the  auction  block?  Who  among  them 
cared  for  the  lacerated  bodies,  the  shameful  and 
hopeless  lives?  They  were  merry;  they  sang  and 
they  danced ; and  they  said,  “ God  sleeps.” 

But  a day  came  when  there  was  a corpse  at  every 
fireside.  And  not  the  corpse  of  the  black  stranger — 
the  African — the  slave; — but  the  corpses  of  fair, 
bright-faced  men;  their  cultured,  their  manly,  their 
noble,  their  best-beloved.  And,  North  and  South, 
they  sat,  rocking  themselves  to  and  fro,  in  the  midst 
of  the  shards  and  ashes  of  desolation,  crying  aloud 
for  the  lives  that  would  come  back  to  bless  them 
never,  nevermore. 

God  wipes  out  injustice  with  suffering;  wrong 
with  blood;  sin  with  death.  You  can  no  more  get 
beyond  the  reach  of  His  hand  than  you  can  escape 
from  the  planet. 


CHAPTER  XXXIV. 

THE  PRINCE  GIVES  HIS  LAST  BRIBE. 

But  it  was  when  the  mob  reached  the  wealthier 
parts  of  the  city  that  the  horrors  of  the  devastation 
really  began.  Here  almost  every  grand  house  was 
the  abode  of  one  of  the  condemned.  True,  many  of 
them  had  fled.  But  the  cunning  cripple — the  vice- 
president — had  provided  for  this  too.  At  the  rail- 
road stations,  at  the  bridges  and  ferries,  even  on  the 
yachts  of  the  princes,  men  were  stationed  who  would 
recognize  and  seize  them;  and  if  they  even  escaped 
the  dangers  of  the  suburbs,  and  reached  the  country, 
there  they  found  armed  bands  of  desperate  peasants, 
ranging  about,  slaying  every  one  who  did  not  bear 
on  his  face  and  person  the  traces  of  the  same  wretch- 
edness which  they  themselves  had  so  long  endured. 
Nearly  every  rich  man  had,  in  his  own  household  and 
among  his  own  servants,  some  bitter  foe,  who  hated 
him,  and  who  had  waited  for  this  terrible  day  and  fol- 
lowed him  to  the  death. 

The  Prince  of  Cabano,  through  his  innumerable 
spies,  had  early  received  word  of  the  turn  affairs  had 
taken.  He  had  hurriedly  filled  a large  satchel  with 
diamonds  and  other  jewels  of  great  value,  and,  sling- 
ing it  over  his  shoulders,  and  arming  himself  with 
sword,  knife  and  pistols,  he  had  called  Frederika  to 
him  (he  had  really  some  little  love  for  his  hand- 
some concubine),  and  loading  her  pockets  and  his 
own  with  gold  pieces,  and  taking  her  by  the  hand,  he 
20  30s 


306 


C^SAE’S  COLUMN. 


had  fled  in  parent  terror  to  the  river  side.  His  flne 
yacht  lay  off  in  the  stream.  He  called  and  shouted 
until  he  was  hoarse,  but  no  one  replied  from  the  ves- 
sel. He  looked  around.  The  wharves  were  deserted ; 
the  few  boats  visible  were  chained  and  padlocked  to 
their  iron  rings.  The  master  of  many  servants  was 
helpless.  He  shouted,  screamed,  tore  his  hair, 
stamped  and  swore  viciously.  The  man  who  had 
coolly  doomed  ten  million  human  beings  to  death 
was  horribly  afraid  he  would  hav^  to  die  himself. 
He  ran  back,  still  clinging  to  Frederika,  to  hide  in 
the  thick  shrubbery  of  his  own  garden ; there,  per- 
haps, he  might  And  a faithful  servant  who  would 
get  him  a boat  and  take  him  off  to  the  yacht  in 
safety. 

<5  But  then,  like  the  advancing  thunder  of  a hurri- 
cane, when  it  champs  the  earth  and  tears  the  trees 
to  pieces  with  its  teeth,  came  on  the  awful  mob. 

Now  it  is  at  his  gates.  He  buries  himself  and 
companion  in  a thick  grove  of  cedars,  and  they 
crouch  to  the  very  ground.  Oh,  how  humble  is  the 
lord  of  millions!  How  all  the  endowments  of  the 
world  fall  off  from  a man  in  his  last  extremity  I He 
shivers,  he  trembles— yea,  he  prays!  Through  his 
bloodshot  eyes  he  catches  some  glimpses  of  a God  — 
of  a merciful  God  who  loves  all  his  creatures.  Even 
Frederika,  though  she  has  neither  love  nor  respect  for 
him,  pities  him,  as  the  bloated  mass  lies  shivering  be- 
side her.  Can  this  be  the  same  lordly  gentleman, 
every  hair  of  whose  mustache  bespoke  empire  and 
dominion,  who  a few  days  since  plotted  the  abase- 
ment of  mankind  ? 

But,  hark!  the  awful  tumult.  The  crashing  of 
glass,  the  breaking  of  furniture,  the  beating  in  of 


CHAR’S  COLUMN. 


307 


doors  with  axes ; the  canaille  have  taken  possession 
of  the  palace.  They  are  looking  for  him  every  w^here. 
They  find  him  not. 

Out  into  the  grounds  and  garden;  here,  there, 
everywhere,  they  turn  and  wind  and  quarter,  like 
bloodhounds  that  have  lost  the  scent. 

And  then  the  Prince  hears,  quite  near  him,  the 
piping  voice  of  a little  ragged  boy — a bare-footed 
urchin — saying:  “They  came  back  from  the  river; 
they  went  in  here.”  (He  is  one  of  the  cripple’s  spies, 
set  upon  him  to  watch  him.)  “ This  way,  this  way ! ” 
And  the  next  instant,  like  a charge  of  wild  cattle, 
the  mob  bursts  through  the  cedars,  led  by  a gigantic 
and  ferocious  figure,  black  with  dust  and  mantled 
with  blood — the  blood  of  others. 

The  Prince  rose  from  his  lair  as  the  yell  of  the 
pursuers  told  he  was  discovered ; he  turned  as  if  to 
run;  his  trembling  legs  failed  him;  his  eyes  glared 
wildly;  he  tried  to  draw  a weapon,  but  his  hand 
shook  so  it  was  in  vain.  The  next  instant  there  was 
a crack  of  a pistol  in  the  hands  of  one  of  the  mob. 
The  ball  struck  the  Prince  in  the  back  of  the  neck, 
even  in  the  same  spot  where,  a century  before,  the 
avenging  bullet  smote  the  assassin  of  the  good  Presi- 
dent Lincoln.  With  a terrible  shriek  he  fell  down,  arid 
moaned  in  the  most  exquisite  torture.  His  suffering 
was  so  great  that,  coward  as  he  was,  he  cried  out : 
“Kill  me!  kill  me!”  A workman,  stirred  by  a hu- 
mane sentiment,  stepped  forward  and  pointed  his 
pistol,  but  the  cripple  struck  the  weapon  up. 

“No,  no,”  he  said ; “let  him  suffer  for  a few  hours 
something  of  the  misery  he  and  his  have  inflicted  on 
mankind  during  centuries.  A thousand  years  of  tor- 
ture would  not  balance  the  account.  The  wound  is 


808 


CjEsar^s  column. 


mortal — his  body  is  now  paralyzed — only  the  sense 
of  pain  remains.  The  damned  in  hell  do  not  suffer 
more.  Come  away.” 

But  Caesar  had  seen  a prize  worth  pursuing.  Fred- 
erika  had  risen,  and  when  the  Prince  was  shot  she 
fled.  Caesar  pursued  her,  crashing  through  the  shrub- 
bery like  an  enraged  mammoth;  and  soon  the  cripple 
laughed  one  of  his  dreadful  laughs — for  he  saw 
the  giant  returning,  dragging  the  fair  girl  after 
him,  by  the  hair  of  her  head,  as  we  have  seen,  in  the 
pictures,  ogres  hauling  off  captured  children  to  de- 
struction. 

And  still  the  Prince  lay  upon  his  back;  and 
still  he  shrieked  and  moaned  and  screamed  in  agony, 
and  begged  for  death. 

An  hour  passed,  and  there  was  dead  silence  save 
for  his  cries ; the  mob  had  swept  off  to  new  scenes  of 
slaughter. 

The  Prince  heard  the  crackling  of  a stick,  and 
then  a stealthy  step.  A thief,  hunting  for  plunder, 
was  approaching.  The  Prince,  by  a great  effort, 
hushed  his  outcries. 

“Come  here,”  said  he,  as  the  pale,  mean  face 
peered  at  him  curiously  through  the  shrubbery. 
“Come  nearer.” 

The  thief  stood  close  to  him. 

“ Would  you  kill  a man  for  a hundred  thousand 
dollars?  ” asked  the  Prince. 

The  thief  grinned,  and  nodded  his  head ; it  signi- 
fied that  he  would  commit  murder  for  the  hundred 
thousandth  part  of  that  sum. 

“I  am  mortally  wounded  and  in  dreadful  pain,” 
growled  the  Prince,  the  suppressed  sobs  interrupt- 
ing his  speech.  “If  I tell  you  where  you  can  find  a 


C^SAR^S  COLUMN. 


309 


hundred  thousand  dollars,  will  you  drive  my  knife 
through  my  heart?  ” 

“Yes,”  said  the  thief. 

“Then  take  the  knife,”  he  said. 

The  thief  did  so,  eying  it  rapaciously— for  it  was 
diamond-studded  and  gold-mounted. 

“But,”  said  the  Prince — villain  himself  and  am 
ticipating  all  villainy  in  others, — “if  I tell  you  where 
the  money  is  you  will  run  away  to  seek  it,  and  leave 
me  here  to  die  a slow  and  agonizing  death.” 

“No,”  said  the  thief;  “I  promise  you  on  my 
honor.” 

A thief’s  honor ! 

“I  tell  you  what  you  must  do,”  said  the  Prince, 
after  thinking  a moment.  “Kneel  down  and  lean  over 
me;  put  your  arms  around»me;  I cannot  hold  you 
with  my  hands,  for  they  are  paralyzed ; but  put  the 
lapel  of  your  coat  between  my  teeth.  I will  then  tell 
you  where  the  treasure  is ; but  I will  hold  on  to  you 
by  my  teeth  until  you  kill  me.  You  will  have  to  slay 
me  to  escape  from  me.” 

The  thief  did  as  he  wms  directed ; his  arms  were 
around  the  Prince ; the  lapel  of  his  coat  w'as  between 
the  Prince’s  teeth ; and  then  through  his  shut  teeth, 
tight  clenched  on  the  coat,  the  Prince  muttered : 

“It  is  in  the  satchel  beneath  me.” 

Without  a word  the  thief  raised  his  right  hand 
and  drove  the  knife  sidewise  clear  through  the 
Prince’s  heart. 

The  last  of  the  accumulations  of  generations  of 
wrong  and  robbery  and  extortion  and  cruelty  had 
sufficed  to  purchase  their  heritor  a miserable  death, — 
in  the  embrace  of  a thief! 


CHAPTER  XXXV. 

THE  LIBERATED  PRISONER. 

About  two  o’clock  that  day  Maximilian  returned 
home.  He  was  covered  with  dust  and  powder-smoke, 
but  there  was  no  blood  upon  him.  I did  not  see  him 
return;  but  when  I entered  the  drawing-room  I 
started  back.  There  was  a stranger  present.  I could 
not  long  doubt  as  to  who  he  was.  He  was  locked  in 
the  arms  of  Max’s  mother.  He  was  a pitiful  sight. 
A tall,  gaunt  man;  his  short  hair  and  stubby  beard 
white  as  snow.  He  was  prematurely  aged — his 
back  was  stooped — his  pallid  complexion  reminded 
one  of  plants  grown  in  cellars;  he  had  a dejected, 
timorous  look,  like  one  who  had  long  been  at  the 
mercy  of  brutal  masters ; his  hands  were  seamed  and 
calloused  with  hard  work ; he  was  without  a coat, 
and  his  nether  garments  had  curious,  tiger-like 
stripes  upon  them.  He  was  sobbing  like  a child  in 
the  arms  of  his  wife.  He  seemed  very  weak  in  body 
and  mind.  Maximilian  gave  him  a chair,  and  his 
mother  sat  down  by  him,  weeping  bitterly,  and  hold- 
ing the  poor  calloused  hands  in  her  own,  and  pat- 
ting them  gently,  while  she  murmured  words  of  com- 
fort and  rejoicing.  The  poor  man  looked  bewildered, 
as  if  he  could  not  quite  collect  his  faculties;  and 
occasionally  he  would  glance  anxiously  at  the  door, 
as  if  he  expected  that,  at  any  moment,  his  brutal 
masters  would  enter  and  take  him  back  to  his  tasks. 

310 


CESAR’S  COLUMN. 


311 


“Gabriel,”  said  Maximilian, — and  his  face  was 
flushed  and  working, — “this  is — orwas — my  father.” 

I took  the  poor  hand  in  my  own  and  kissed  it,  and 
spoke  encouraginglj’^  to  him.  And  this,  I thought, 
was  once  a wealthy,  handsome,  portly,  learned  gen- 
tleman; a scholar  and  a philanthropist;  and  his 
only  crime  was  that  he  loved  his  fellow-men ! And 
upon  how  many  such  men  have  the  prison  doors  of 
the  world  closed — never  to  open  again? 

They  took  him  away  to  the  bath ; they  fed  him ; 
they  put  upon  him  the  clothes  of  a gentleman.  He 
smiled  in  a childish  way,  and  smoothed  the  fine 
cloth  with  his  hands ; and  then  he  seemed  to  realize, 
for  the  first  time,  that  he  was,  indeed,  no  longer 
a prisoner— that  his  jailers  had  gone  out  of  his  life 
forever. 

“I  must  go  now,”  said  Maximilian,  hurriedly;  “I 
will  be  back  this  evening.  I have  a duty  to  perform.” 

He  returned  at  nightfall.  There  was  a terrible 
light  in  his  eyes. 

“I  have  avenged  my  father,”  he  said  to  me,  in  a 
hoarse  whisper.  “ Come  this  way.” 

He  took  me  into  the  librarv,  for  he  would  not 
have  the  w'omen  hear  the  dreadful  story.  I shut 
the  door.  He  said : 

“I  had  made  all  the  necessary  arrangements  to 
prevent  the  escape  of  the  Count  and  his  accomplices. 
I knew  that  he  would  fly,  at  the  first  alarm,  to  his 
yacht,  which  lies  out  in  the  harbor.  He  had  ruined 
my  father  by  bribery ; so  I brought  his  own  instru- 
ment to  bear  upon  him,  and  bribed,  with  a large 
sum,  his  confidential  friend,  who  was  in  command  of 
his  vessel,  to  deliver  him  up  to  me.  As  I had  antici- 
pated, the  cunning  wretch  fled  to  the  yacht  ; they 


312 


CESAR’S  COLUMN. 


took  him  on  board.  Then  they  made  him  prisoner. 
He  was  shackled  and  chained  to  the  mast.  He 
begged  for  his  life  and  liberty.  He  had  brought  a 
fortune  with  him  in  gold  and  jewels.  He  offered  the 
whole  of  it  to  his  friend,  as  a bribe,  for  he  surmised 
what  was  coming.  The  faithful  officer  replied,  as  I 
had  instructed  him,  that  the  Count  could  not  offer 
that  treasure,  for  he  himself  had  already  appropri- 
ated it  to  his  own  purposes.  The  miscreant  had  al- 
ways had  a lively  sense  of  the  power  of  money  for 
evil;  he  saw  it  now  in  a new  light — for  he  was  penni- 
less. After  taking  my  father  fi’om  the  prison  and 
bringing  him  home,  I arranged  as  to  the  other  pris- 
oners and  then  went  to  the  yacht.  I introduced 
myself  to  the  Count.  I told  him  that  I had  de- 
ceived his  spies — that  I had  led  a double  life;  that  I 
had  joined  the  Brotherhood  and  had  become  one  oi 
its  leading  spirits,  with  but  two  objects: — to  punish 
him  and  his  villainous  associates  and  to  rescue  my 
father. ..  That,  as  they  had  destroyed  my  father  for 
money,  the  same  instrnments  should  now  destroy 
him,  through  fear.  That  they  were  all  prisoners, 
and  should  die  together  a fearful  death;  but  if 
they  had  a hundred  lives  they  could  not  atone  for 
the  suffering  they  had  caused  one  good  and 
great-hearted  man.  They  had  compelled  him,  for 
years,,  to  work  in  the  society  of  the  basest  of  his 
species — at  work  too  hard  for  even  a young  and 
strong  man ; they  had  separated  him  from  his  fam- 
ily ; they  had  starved  his  mind  and  heart  and  body ; 
they  had  beaten  and  scourged  him  for  the  slightest 
offenses.  He  had  suffered  a thousand  deaths.  It 
would  be  no  equivalent  to  simply  kill  them.  They 
should  die  in  prolonged  agony.  And  as  he — the 


aESAU  ’S  COLUMN. 


313 


Count — had  always  gone  upon  the  principle  that  it 
as  right  to  work  upon  the  weaknesses  of  others  to 
accomplish  his  purposes,  I should  imitate  him.  I 
should  not  touch  him  myself. 

“I  then  ordered  the  captain  and  his  men  to  put 
him  in  the  boat  and  carry  him  ashore. 

“He  begged  and  pleaded  and  abased  himself;  he 
entreated  and  shrieked ; but  he  addressed  hearts  as 
hard  as  his  own. 

“On  the  river-bank  were  a body  of  my  men.  In 
the  midst  of  them  they  had  the  other  prisoners  — 
the  corrupt  judge,  eight  of  the  jurymen — four  had 
died  since  the  trial — and  the  four  lying  witnesses. 
They  were  all  shackled  together.  A notary  public 
was  present,  and  they  signed  and  acknowledged  their 
confessions,  that  they  had  been  bribed  to  swear 
against  my  father  and  to  convict  him;  and  they  even 
acknowledged,  in  their  terror,  the  precise  sums  which 
they  had  received  for  their  dreadful  acts. 

“ ‘ Spare  me ! spare  me ! ’ shrieked  the  Count, 
groveling  on  the  ground;  ‘only  part  of  that  money 
came  from  me.  I was  but  the  instrument  of  the 
government.  I was  commanded  to  do  as  I did.’ 

“ ‘ The  others  have  already  gone  to  their  account,’ 
I replied,  ‘every  man  of  them.  You  will  overtake 
them  in  a little  while.’ 

“I  ordered  the  prisoners  to  chain  him  to  a stout 
post  which  stood  in  the  middle  of  one  of  the 
wharves.  They  were  unshackled  and  did  so  with 
alacrity;  my  men  standing  around  ready  to  shoot 
them  down  if  they  attempted  to  fly.  The  Count 
writhed  and  shrieked  for  help,  but  in  a little  while  he 
was  securely  fastened  to  the  post.  There  was  a ship 
loaded  with  lumber  lying  beside  the  next  wharf.  I 


314 


CJSSAR’S  COLUMN. 


ordered  them  to  bring  the  lumber ; they  quickly  piled 
it  up  in  great  walls  around  him,  within  about  ten 
feet  of  him ; and  then  more  and  more  was  heaped 
around  these  walls.  The  Count  began  to  realize  the 
death  that  awaited  him,  and  his  screams  were  appall- 
ing. But  I said  to  him : 

“ ‘ 0 Count,  be  calm.  This  is  not  as  bad  as  a sen- 
tence of  twenty  years  in  the  penitentiary  for  an  hon- 
est and  innocent  man.  And,  remember,  my  dear 
Count,  how  you  have  enjoyed  yourself  all  these  years, 
while  my  poor  father  has  been  toiling  in  prison  in  a 
striped  suit.  Think  of  the  roast  beef  you  have 
eaten  and  the  wine  you  have  consumed ! And,  more- 
over, the  death  you  are  about  to  die,  my  dear 
Count,  was  once  fashionable  and  popular  in  the 
world ; and  many  a good  and  holy  man  went  up  to 
heaven  from  just  such  a death-bed  as  you  shall 
have — a death-bed  of  fire  and  ashes.  And  see,  my 
good  Count,  how  willingly  these  honest  men,  whom 
you  hired,  with  your  damnable  money,  to  destroy 
my  father — see  how  willingly  they  work  to  prepare 
your  funeral  pile ! What  a supple  and  pliant  thing, 
0 Count,  is  human  baseness.  It  has  but  one  defect — 
it  may  be  turned  upon  ourselves ! And  then,  0 my 
dear  Count,  it  shocks  us  and  hurts  our  feelings.  But 
say  your  prayers.  Count,  say  your  prayers.  Call 
upon  God,  for  lie  is  the  only  one  likely  to  listen  to 
you  now.’ 

“ ‘ Here,’  I said  to  the  judge,  ‘ put  a match  to  the 
pile.’” 

“The  miserable  wretch,  trembling  and  hoping  to 
save  his  own  life  by  his  superserviceable  zeal,  got 
down  upon  his  knees,  and  lighted  a match,  and 
puffed  and  blew  to  make  the  fire  catch.  ‘ At  last  it 


CESAR’S  COLUMN. 


31»k 

started  briskly,  and  in  a few  minutes  the  Count  was 
screaming  in  the  center  of  a roaring  furnace. 

“ I gave  a preconcerted  signal  to  my  men.  In  the 
twinkling  of  an  eye  each  of  the  prisoners  was  man- 
acled hand  and  foot,  shrieking  and  roaring  for 
mercy. 

“‘It  was  a splendid  joke,  gentlemen,’  I said  to 
them,  ‘that  you  played  on  my  father.  To  send  that 
good  man  to  prison,  and  to  go  home  with  the  price 
of  his  honor  and  his  liberty  jingling  in  your  pockets. 
It  was  a capital  joke;  and  you  will  now  feel  the  finest 
point  of  the  witticism.  In  with  them ! ’ 

“And  high  above  the  walls  of  fire  they  were 
thrown,  and  the  briber  and  the  bribed — the  villain 
andhis  instruments — all  perished  howling  together.” 

I listened,  awestruck,  to  the  terrible  story.  There 
was  a light  in  Max’s  eyes  which  showed  that  long 
brooding  over  the  wrongs  of  his  father  and  the  sight 
of  his  emaciated  and  wretched  form  had  “worked 
like  madness  in  his  brain,”  until  he  was,  as  I had 
feared,  a monomaniac,  with  but  one  idea — revenge. 

“Max,  dear  Max,”  I said,  “for  Heaven’s  sake 
never  let  Christina  or  your  mother  hear  that  dread- 
ful story.  It  was  a madman’s  act!  Never  think  of 
it  again.  You  have  wiped  out  the  crime  in  blood ; 
there  let  it  end.  And  leave  these  awful  scenes,  or  you 
will  become  a maniac.” 

He  did  not  answer  me  for  a time,  but  looked  down 
thoughtfully ; and  then  he  glanced  at  me,  furtively, 
and  said : 

“Is  not  revenge  right?  Is  it  not  simply  justice?” 

'"“Perhaps  so,  in  some  sense,”  I replied;  “and  if 
you  had  killed  those  base  wretches  with  your  own 
hand  the  world  could  not  have  much  blamed  you. 


316 


C^SAB’S  COLUMN. 


Remember,  however,  ‘Vengeance  is  mine,  saith  the 
Lord,  and  I will  repay.’  But  to  send  them  out  of  life 
by  such  dreadful  tortures ! It  is  too  terrible.” 

“But  death,”  he  said,  “is  nothing;  it  is  the  mere 
end  of  life — perhaps  of  consciousness;  and  that  is  no 
atonement  for  years  of  suffering,  every  day  of  which 
was  full  of  more  agony  than  death  itself  can 
wring  from  the  human  heart.” 

“I  will  not  argue  with  you.  Max,”  I replied,  “for 
you  are  wrong,  and  I love  you;  but  do  you  not 
see,  when  a heart,  the  kindest  in  the  world,  could 
conceive  and  execute  such  a terrible  revenge,  that  the 
condition  of  the  mind  is  abnormal?  But  let  us 
change  the  gloomy  subject.  The  dreadful  time  has 
put  ‘tricks  of  desperation’  in  your  brain.  And  it  is 
not  the  least  of  the  crimes  of  the  Oligarchy  that  it 
could  thus  pervert  honest  and  gentle  natures,  and 
turn  them  into  savages.  And  that  is  what  it  has 
done  with  millions.  It  has  fought  against  goodness, 
and  developed  wickedness.  ” 


CHAPTER  XXXVI. 

C^SAR  ERECTS  HIS  MONUMENT. 

“What  other  news  have  you?  ” I asked. 

“The  strangest  you  ever  heard,”  replied  Max. 

“What  is  it?” 

“CiBsar,”  said  Max,  “has  fallen  upon  a scheme  of 
the  most  frenzied  and  extraordinary  kind.” 

“Are  the  members  of  the  Executive  Committee  all 
going  crazy  together?  ” I asked. 

“Surely,”  replied  Max,  “the  terrible  events  we 
are  passing  through  would  be  our  excuse  if  we  did. 
But  you  shall  hear.  After  I had  avenged  my  father 
I proceeded  to  find  Cmsar.  I heard  from  members  of 
the  Brotherhood,  whom  I met  on  the  streets,  that  he 
was  at  Prince  Cabano’s  palace.  I hurried  there,  as  it 
was  necessary  I should  confer  with  him  on  some 
matters.  A crowd  had  reassembled  around  the  build- 
ing; which  had  become  in  some  sort  a headquar- 
ters; and,  in  fact,  Caesar  has  confiscated  it  to  his 
own  uses,  and  intends  to  keep  it  as  his  home  hereaf- 
ter. I found  him  in  the  council-chamber.  You  never 
saw  such  a sight.  He  was  so  black  with  dust  and 
blood  that  he  looked  like  a negro.  He  was  hatless, 
and  his  mat  of  hair  rose  like  a wild  beast’s  mane. 
He  had  been  drinking ; his  eyes  w’ere  wild  and  rolling ; 
the  great  sword  he  held  in  his  right  hand  was  caked 
with  blood  to  the  hilt.  He  was  in  a fearful  state  of 
excitement,  and  roared  when  he  spoke.  A king-devil, 

3«7 


318 


CJESAR’S  COLUMN. 


come  fresh  out  of  hell,  could  scarcely  have  looked 
more  terrible.  Behind  him  in  one  corner,  crouching 
and  crying  together,  were  a bevy  of  young  and  hand- 
some women.  The  Sultan  had  been  collecting  his 
harem.  When  he  caught  sight  of  me  he  rushed  for- 
ward and  seized  my  hand,  and  shouted  out : 

“ ‘Hurrah,  old  fellow!  This  is  better  than  rais- 
ing potatoes  on  the  Saskatchewan,  or  hiding  among 
the  niggers  in  Louis — hie — iana.  Down  with  the 
Oligarchy.  To  hell  with  them.  Hurrah  I This  is  my 
palace.  I am  a king!  Look-a-there,’ he  said,  with 
a roll  and  a leer,  pointing  over  his  shoulder  at  the 
shrinking  and  terrified  women ; ‘ ain’t  they  beauties, 
— hie — all  mine — every  one  of  ’em.’ 

“Here  one  of  his  principal  officers  came  up,  and 
the  following  dialogue  occurred : 

“ ‘I  came.  General,  to  ask  you  what  we  are  to 
do  with  the  dead.’ 

“ ‘Kill  ’em,’  roared  Cmsar,  ‘kill  ’em,  d n ’em.  ’ 

“ ‘But,  General, they  are  dead  already,’ replied  the 
officer,  who  was  a steady  fellow  and  perfectly  sober. 

“ ‘Well, what’s  the  matter  with  ’em,  then?’  replied 
Caesar.  ‘ Come,  come.  Bill,  if  they’re  dead,  that’s  the 
end  of  them.  Take  a drink,’  and  he  turned,  unstead- 
ily, toward  the  council-table,  on  which  stood  several 
bottles  and  demijohns. 

“ ‘But  some  of  us  have  talked  it  over,’  said  the 
officer.  ‘A  number  of  the  streets  are  impassable  al- 
ready with  the  dead.  There  miist  be  a quarter  of  a 
million  of  soldiers  and  citizens  lying  about,  and  the 
number  is  being  added  to  every  minute.  The  weather 
is  warm,  and  they  will  soon  breed  a pestilence  that 
will  revenge  them  on  their  slayers.  Those  killed  by 
the  poison  are  beginning  to  smell  already.'  We 


CJESAR’S  COLUMN. 


319 


couldn’t  take  any  action  without  your  authority, 
and  so  I came  to  ask  you  for  your  orders.’ 

“ 'Burn  ’em  up,’  said  Caesar. 

“ ‘We  can’t,’  said  the  man;  ‘we  would  have  to 
burn  up  the  city  to  destroy  them  in  that  way;  there 
are  too  many  of  them ; and  it  would  be  an  immense 
task  to  bury  them.’ 

“ ‘ Heap  ’em  all  up  in  one  big  pile,’  said  Caesar. 

“ ‘That  wouldn’t  do — the  smell  they  would 
make  in  decaying  would  be  unbearable,  to  say 
nothing  of  the  sickness  they  would  create.’ 

“Caesar  was  standing  unsteadily,  looking  at  us 
with  lack-luster  eyes.  Suddenly  an  idea  seemed  to 
dawn  in  his  monstrous  head — an  idea  as  monstrous 
and  uncouth  as  the  head  itself.  His  eyes  lighted 
up. 

“ ‘I  have  it!’  he  shouted.  ‘By  Gr — d,  I have  it! 
Make  a pyramid  of  them,  and  pour  cement  over 
them,  and  let  it  stand  forever  as  a monument  of  this 
day’s  glorious  work ! Hoorrah ! ’ 

“ ‘That’s  a pretty  good  idea,’  said  the  officer, 
and  the  others  present,  courtier-like — for  King  Cae- 
sar already  has  his  courtiers — applauded  the  idea 
vociferously. 

“ ‘We’ll  have  a monument  that  shall  last  while 
the  earth  stands,’  cried  Caesar.  ‘And,  hold  on.  Bill,’ 
he  continued,  ‘you  shall  build  it ; — and — Isay — we 
won’t  make  a pyramid  of  it  — it  shall  be  a column — 
Csesafs  Column  — by  G — d.  It  shall  reach  to  the 
skies ! And  if  there  aren’t  enough  dead  to  build  it 
of,  why,  we’ll  kill  some  more ; we’ve  got  plenty  to 
kill.  Old  Thingumbob,  who  used  to  live  here — in  my 
palace — said  he  would  kill  ten  million  of  us  to-day. 
But  he  didn’t.  Not  much!  Max’s  friend — that 


CESAR’S  COLUMN. 


:{20 

d d long-legged  fellow,  from  Africa — he  dished  him, 

for  he  told  old  Quincy  all  about  it.  And  now  I’ve 
got  old  Thingumbob’s  best  girl  in  the  corner  yonder. 
Oh,  it’s  jolly.  But  build  the  column.  Bill — build  it 
high  and  strong.  I remember — hie — how  they  used 
to  build  houses  on  the  Saskatchewan,  when  I was 
grubbing  for  potatoes  there.  They  had  a board 
frame  the  length  of  a wall,  and  three  or  four  feet 
high.  They  would  throw  in  stones,  bowlders,  pebbles, 
dirt,  anything,  and,  when  it  was  full,  they  would  pour 
cement  over  it  all;  and  when  it  hardened  — hie  — 
which  it  did  in  a few  minutes,  they  lifted  up  the  frame 
and  made  another  course.  I say.  Bill,  that’s  the 
way  you  must  build  Caesar’s  column.  And  get  Char- 
ley Carpenter  to  help  you;  he’s  an  engineer.  And, 
hold  on.  Bill,  put  a lot  of  dynamite — Jim  has  just 
told  me  they  had  found  tons  of  it — put  a lot  of  dy- 
namite— hie — in  the  middle  of  it,  and  if  they  try  to 
tear  down  my  monument,  it  will  blow  them  to  the 

d 1.  And,  I say.  Max,  that  long-legged,  preaching 

son-of-thunder — that  friend  of  yours — he  must  write 
an  inscription  for  it.  Do  you  hear?  He’s  the  man 
to  do  it.  Something  fine.  By  G — d,  we  will  build  a 
monument  that  will  beat  the  pyramids  of  all  the 
other  Caesars.  Caesar  ’ s Column ! Hoorrah ! ’ 

“And  the  great  brute  fairly  jumped  and  danced 
with  delight  over  his  extraordinary  conception. 

“Bill  hurried  out.  They  have  sixty  thousand  pris- 
oners— men  who  had  not  been  among  the  condemned 
— but  merchants,  professional  men,  etc.  They 
were  debating,  when  I came  up,  whether  they  would 
kill  them,  but  I suggested  that  they  be  set  to  work  on 
the  construction  of  Caesar’s  Column,  and  if  they 
worked  well,  that  their  lives  be  spared.  This  was 


CAESAR'S  COLUMN. 


321 


agreed  to.  They  are  now  building  the  inonnment  on 
Uniou  Square.  Thousands  of  wagons  are  at  work 
bringing  in  the  dead.  Other  wagons  are  hauling 
cement,  sand,  etc.  Bill  and  his  friend  Carpenter  are 
at  work.  They  have  constructed  great  wooden 
boxes,  about  forty  feet  from  front  to  rear,  about 
four  feet  high  and  fifty  feet  long.  The  dead  are  to  be 
laid  in  rows — the  feet  of  the  one  low  of  men  near 
the  center  of  the  monument,  and  the  feet  of  the  next 
row  touching  the  heads  of  the  first,  and  so  on.  In 
the  middle  of  the  column  there  is  to  be  a cavity, 
about  five  feet  square,  running  from  the  top  to  the 
bottom  of  the  monument,  in  which  the  dynamite  is 
to  be  placed ; while  wires  will  lead  out  from  it  among 
the  bodies,  so  arranged,  with  fulminating  charges, 
that  any  attempt  to  destroy  the  monument'  or 
remove  the  bodies  will  inevitably  result  in  a dread- 
ful explosion.  But  we  will  go  up  after  dinner  and 
look  at  the  work,”  he  said,  “for  they  are  to  labor 
night  and  day  until  it  is  finished.  The  members  of 
the  Brotherhood  have  entered  with  great  spirit  into 
the  idea  of  such  a monument,  as  a symbol  and 
memorial  of  their  own  glory  and  triumph.” 

“I  remember,”  said  I,  “reading  somewhere  that, 
some  centuries  ago,  an  army  of  white  men  invaded 
one  of  the  Barbary  states.  They  were  defeated  by 
the  natives,  and  were  every  one  slain.  The  Moors 
took  their  bodies  and  piled  them  up  in  a great  mon- 
ument, and  there  the  white  bones  and  grinning  skulls 
remain  to  this  day,  a pyramid  of  skeletons ; a ghastly 
warning  to  others  who  might  think  to  make  a like 
attempt  at  invasion  of  the  country.  Caesar  must 
have  read  of  that  terrible  trophy  of  victory.” 

“Perhaps  so,”  said  Maximilian;  “but  the  idea 
21 


322 


CESAR'S  COLUMN. 


may  have  been  original  with  him ; for  there  is  no  tell-  ' 
ing  what  such  a monstrous  brain  as  his,  fired  by 
whisky  and  battle,  might  or  might  not  produce.” 

At  dinner  poor  Mr.  Phillips  was  looking  somewhat 
better.  He  had  a great  many  questions  to  ask  his 
son  about  the  insurrection. 

“Arthur,”  he  said,  “if  the  bad  man  and  his  ac- 
complices, who  so  cruelly  used  me,  should  be  made 
prisoners,  I beg  you,  as  a favor  to  me,  not  to  punish 
them.  Leave  them  to  God  and  their  own  con- 
sciences.” 

“I  shall,”  said  Max,  quietly. 

Mrs.  Phillips  heartily  approved  of  this  sentiment. 

I looked  down  at  my  plate,  but  before  my  eyes  there 
came  a dreadful  picture  of  that  fortress  of  fiame, 
with  the  chained  man  in  the  midst,  and  high  above  it 
I could  see,  swung  through  the  air  by  powerful  arms, 
manacled  figures,  who  descended,  shrieking,  into  the 
vortex  of  fire. 

After  many  injunctions  to  his  guards,  to  look  well 
after  the  house.  Max  and  I,  well  armed  and  wearing 
our  red  crosses,  and  accompanied  by  two  of  our  most 
trusted  men,  sallied  forth  through  the  back  gate. 

What  a scene ! Chaos  had  come.  There  were  no 
cars  or  carriages.  Thieves  and  murderers  were 
around  us;  scenes  of  rapine  and  death  on  every 
hand.  We  moved  together  in  a body ; our  magazine 
rifles  ready  for  instant  use. 

Our  red  crosses  protected  us  from  the  members  of 
the  Brotherhood ; and  the  thieves  gave  our  guns 
a wide  berth.  At  a street  crossing  we  encountered 
a wagon-load  of  dead  bodies ; they  were  being  hauled 
to  the  monument.  The  driver,  one  of  the  Brother- 
hood, recognized  Max,  and  mvited  us  to  seats  beside 


C JUS  AH’S  COLUMN. 


323 


him.  Familiai'ity  makes  death  as  natural  as  life. 
We  accepted  his  offer — one  of  our  men  sitting  on  the 
tail-board  of  the  wagon;  and  in  this  gory  chariot 
we  rode  slowly  throiigh  Broadway,  deserted  now  by 
everything  but  crime.  The  shops  had  all  been  broken 
open;  dead  bodies  lay  here  and  there;  and  occasion- 
ally a burned  block  lifted  its  black  arms  appealingly 
to  heaven.  As  we  drew  near  to  Union  Square  a won- 
derful sight — such  as  the  world  had  never  before  be- 
held—expanded  before  us.  Great  blazing  bonfires 
lighted  the  work ; hundreds  of  thousands  had  gath- 
ered to  behold  the  ghastly  structure,  the  report  of 
which  had  already  spread  everywhere.  These  men 
nearly  all  belonged  to  the  Brotherhood,  or  were  mem- 
bers of  the  lower  orders,  who  felt  that  they  had  noth- 
ing to  fear  from  insurrection.  There  were  many 
women  among  them,  and  not  a few  thieves,  who, 
drawn  by  curiosity,  for  awhile  forgot  their  opportu- 
nities and  their  instincts.  Within  the  great  outer 
circle  of  dark  and  passionate  and  exultant  faces,  there 
was  another  assemblage  of  a very  different  appear- 
ance. These  were  the  prisoners  at  work  upon  the 
monument.  Many  of  them  were  gray-haired;  some 
were  bloody  from  wounds  upon  their  heads  or  bod- 
ies ; they  were  all  pale  and  terrified ; not  a few  were 
in  rags,  or  half  naked,  their  clothes  having  been 
literally  torn  from  their  backs.  They  were  dejected, 
and  yet  moved  with  alacrity,  in  fear  of  the  whips  or 
clubs  in  the  hands  of  their  masters,  who  passed 
among  them,  filling  the  air  with  oaths.  Max  pointed 
out  to  me  prominent  merchants,  lawyers  and  clergy- 
men. They  were  all  dazed-looking,  like  men  after  a 
terrific  earthquake,  who  had  lost  confidence  in  the 
stability  of  everything.  It  was  Anarchy  personified : 


324 


CMSAE'S  COLUMN. 


— the  men  of  intellect  were  doing  the  work;  the  men 
of  muscle  were  giving  the  orders.  The  under-rail 
had  come  on  top.  It  reminded  me  of  Swift’s  story 
of  the  country  where  the  men  were  servants  to  the 
horses. 

The  wagons  rolled  up,  half  a dozen  at  a time,  and 
dumped  their  dreadful  burdens  on  the  stones,  with  no 
more  respect  or  ceremony  than  if  they  had  been 
cord-wood.  Then  the  poor  trembling  prisoners  seized 
them  by  the  head  and  feet,  and  carried  them  to  other 
prisoners,  who  stood  inside  the  boxes,  and  who  ar- 
ranged them  like  double  lines  from  a central  point : — 
it  was  the  many-rayed  sun  of  death  that  had  set 
upon  civilization.  Then,  when  the  box  was  full  and 
closely  packed,  they  poured  the  liquid  cement,  which 
had  been  mixed  close  at  hand,  over  them.  It  har- 
dened at  once,  and  the  dead  were  entombed  forever. 
Then  the  box  was  lifted  and  the  work  of  sepulture 
went  on. 

While  I stood  watching  the  scene  I heard  a thrill- 
ing, ear-piercing  shriek — a dreadful  cry!  A young 
man,  who  was  helping  to  carry  a corpse,  let  go 
his  hold  and  fell  down  on  the  pavement.  I went 
over  to  him.  He  was  writhing  and  moaning.  He 
had  observed  something  familiar  about  the  form  he 
was  bearing — it  was  the  body  of  a woman.  He  had 
peered  through  the  disheveled  hair  at  the  poor,  ago- 
nized, blood-stained  features,  and  recognized — Ms 
wife!” 

One  of  the  guards  raised  his  whip  to  strike  him, 
and  shouted : 

“Here!  Get  up!  None  of  this  humbugging.” 

I caught  the  ruffian’s  arm.  The  poor  wretch  was 
embracing  the  dead  body,  and  moaning  pitiful  ex- 


CMSAR’S  COLUMN. 


825 


pressions  of  love  and  tenderness  into  the  ears  that 
would  never  hear  him  more.  The  ruffian  threatened 
me.  But  the  mob  was  moved  to  mercy,  and  took 
my  part;  and  even  permitted  the  poor  creature  to 
carry  off  his  dead  in  his  arms,  out  into  the  outer 
darkness.  God  only  knows  where  he  could  have 
borne  it. 

I grew  sick  at  heart.  The  whole  scene  was  awful. 

I advanced ‘toward  the  column.  It  was  already 
several  feet  high,  and  ladders  were  being  made,  up 
which  the  dead  might  be  borne.  Coffee  and  bread 
and  meat  were  served  out  to  the  workers. 

I noticed  a sneaking,  ruffianly  fellow,  going  about 
among  the  prisoners,  peering  into  every  face.  Not 
far  from  me  a ragged,  hatless,  gray-haired  man,  of 
over  seventy,  was  helping  another,  equally  old,  to 
bear  a heavy  body  to  the  ladders.  The  ruffian  looked 
first  into  the  •■face  of  the  man  at  the  feet  of  the 
corpse;  then  he  came  to  the  man  at  the  head.  He 
uttered  an  exclamation  of  delight. 

‘•'Ha!  you  old  scouudrel,”  he  cried,  drawing  his 
pistol.  “So  I’ve  found  ^ou.  You’re  the  man  that 
turned  my  sick  wife  out  of  your  house,  because  she 
couldn’t  pay  the  rent.  I’ve  got  you  now.” 

The  old  man  fell  on  his  knees,  and  held  up  his 
hands,  and  begged  for  mercy.  I heard  an  explosion — 
a red  spot  suddenly  appeared  on  his  forehead,  and  he 
fell  forward,  over  the  corpse  he  had  been  carrying  — 
dead. 

“Come!  move  lively!”  cried  one  of  the  guards, 
snapping  his  whip;  “carry  them  both  to  the  work- 
men.” 

I grew  dizzy.  Maximilian  came  up. 

“ How  pale  you  are,”  he  said. 


326 


CESAR’S  COLUMN. 


“Take  me  away!”  I exclaimed,  “or  I shall 
faint.” 

We  rode  back  in  another  chariot  of  revolution — a 
death-cart. 


CHAPTER  XXXVII. 

THE  SECOND  DAY. 

It  was  a dreadful  night.  Crowds  of  farmers  from 
the  surrounding  country  kept  pouring  into  the  city. 
They  were  no  longer  the  honest  yeomanry  who  had 
filled,  in  the  old  time,  the  armies  of  Washington,  and 
Jackson,  and  Grant,  and  Sherman,  with  brave  and 
patriotic  soldiers ; but  their  brutalized  descendants — 
fierce  serfs — cruel  and  bloodthirsty  peasants.  Every 
man  who  owned  anything  w’as  their  enemy  and  their 
victim.  They  invaded  the  houses  of  friend  and  foe 
alike,  and  murdered  men,  women  and  children. 
Plunder ! plunder ! They  had  no  other  thought. 

One  of  our  men  came  to  me  at  midnight,  and 
said : 

“ Do  you  hear  those  shrieks  ? ” 

“Yes,”  I replied. 

“They  are  murdering  the  family  next  door.” 

These  were  pleasant,  kindly  people,  who  had  never 
harmed  any  one.  But  this  maelstrom  swallows  good 
and  bad  alike. 

Another  came  running  to  me,  and  cried : 

“ They  are  attacking  the  house ! ” 

“Where?  ” I asked. 

“At  the  front  door.” 

“Throw  over  a hand-grenade,”  I said. 

There  was  a loud  crash,  and  a scurrying  of  flying 
feet.  The  cowardly  miscreants  had  fled.  They  were 
murderers,  not  warriors. 

327 


828 


C^SAB’S  COLUMN. 


All  night  long  the  awful  Bedlam  raged.  The  dark 
streets  swarmed.  Three  times  we  had  to  have  re- 
course to  the  hand-grenades.  Fires  sprang  up  all 
over  the  city,  licking  the  darkness  with  their  hideous 
tongues  of  flame,  and  revealing  by  their  crimson 
glare  the  awful  sights  of  that  unparalleled  time.  The 
dread  came  upon  me : What  if  some  wretch  should 
fire  a house  in  our  block  ? How  should  we  choose 
between  the  conflagration  and  those  terrible  streets  ? 
Would  it  not  be  better  to  be  ashes  and  cinders,  than 
to  fall  into  the  hands  of  that  demoniacal  mob  ? 

No  one-slept.  Max  sat  apart  and  thought.  Was 
he  considering — too  late! — whether  it  was  right  to 
have  helped  produce  this  terrible  catastrophe  ? Early 
in  the  morning,  accompanied  by  three  of  his  men, 
he  went  out. 

We  ate  breakfast  in  silence.  It  seemed  to  me  we 
had  no  right  to  eat  in  the  midst  of  so  much  death 
and  destruction. 

There  was  an  alarm,  and  the  firing  of  guns  above 
us.  Some  miscreants  had  tried  to  reach  the  roof  of 
our  house  from  the  adjoining  buildings.  We  rushed 
up.  A lively  fusillade  followed.  Our  magazine  rifles 
and  hand-grenades  were  too  much  for  them;  some 
fell  dead  and  the  rest  beat  a hasty  retreat.  They 
were  peasants,  searching  for  plunder. 

After  awhile  there  came  a loud  rapping  at  the 
front  door.  I leaned  over  the  parapet  and  asked  who 
was  there.  A rough-looking  man  replied : 

‘‘  I have  a letter  for  you.” 

Fearing  some  trick,  to  break  into  the  house,  I 
lowered  a long  cord  and  told  him  to  tie  the  letter  to 
it.  He  did  so.  I pulled  up  a large  sheet  of  dirty 
wrapping-paper.  There  were  some  lines  scrawled 


C^SA^JS  COLUMN. 


329 


iipon  it,  in  lead-pencil,  in  the  large  hand  of  a school- 
boy— almost  undecipherable.  With  some  study  I 
made  out  these  words : 

Mister  Gabriel,  Max’s  Friend:— Caesar  wants  that  thing  to 
put  on  the  front  of  the  column.  Bill. 

It  took  me  a few  minutes  to  understand  it.  At 
last  I realized  that  Caesar’s  officer — Bill — had  sent 
for  the  inscription  for  the  monument,  about  which 
Caesar  had  spoken  to  Max.  I called  down  to  the 
messenger  to  wait,  and  that  I would  give  it  to  himo 

I sat  down,  and,  after  some  thought,  wrote,  on  the 
back  of  the  wrapping-paper,  these  words : 

This  Great  Monument 
is 

erected  by 
C^SAR  LOMELLINI, 

Commanding  General  of 
THE  BROTHERHOOD  OF  DESTRUCTION, 

IN 

commemoration  of 
The  Death  and  Burial  of 
MODERN  CIVILIZATION. 

It  is  composed  of  the  bodies  of  a quarter  of  a million  of  human 
beings,  who  were  once  the  rulers,  or  the  instruments  of  the  rulers, 
of  this  mighty,  but,  alas ! this  ruined  city. 

They  were  dominated  by  leaders  w^ho  were  altogether  evil. 

They  corrupted  the  courts,  the  juries,  the  newspapers,  the  legis- 
latures, the  congresses,  the  ballot-boxes  and  the  hearts  and  souls 
of  the  people. 

They  formed  gigantic  combinations  to  pluna.i  Lie  poor;  to 
make  the  miserable  more  miserable;  to  take  from  those  who  had 
least  and  give  it  to  those  who  had  most. 


330 


CuESAR^S  COLUMN. 


They  used  the  machinery  of  free  government  to  effect  oppres- 
sion ; they  made  liberty  a mockery,  and  its  traditions  a jest ; they 
drove  justice  from  the  land  and  installed  cruelty,  ignorance,  de- 
spair and  vice  in  its  place. 

Their  hearts  were  harder  than  the  nether  mill-stone;  they  de- 
graded humanity  and  outraged  God. 

At  length  indignation  stirred  in  the  vasty  courts  of  heaven; 
and  overburdened  human  nature  rose  in  universal  revolt  on  earth. 

By  the  very  instruments  which  their  own  wickedness  had  cre- 
ated they  perished;  and  here  they  lie,  sepulchred  in  stone,  and 
heaped  around  explosives  as  destructive  as  their  own  lives.  We 
execrate  their  vices,  while  we  weep  for  their  misfortunes.  They 
were  the  culmination  of  centuries  of  misgovernment ; and  they 
paid  an  awful  penaltj^  for  the  sins  of  generations  of  short-sighted 
and  selfish  ancestors,  as  well  as  for  their  own  cruelty  and  wicked- 
ness. 

Let  this  monument,  0 man  ! stand  forever. 

Should  civilization  ever  revive  on  earth,  let  the  human  race 
come  hither  and  look  upon  this  towering  shaft,  and  learn  to  re- 
strain selfishness  and  live  righteously.  From  this  ghastly  pile  let 
it  derive  the  great  lesson,  that  no  earthly  government  can  endure 
which  is  not  built  on  mercy,  justice,  truth  and  love. 

I tied  the  paper  to  the  cord  and  lowered  it  down 
to  the  waiting  messenger. 

At  noon  Max  returned.  His  clothes  were  torn, 
his  face  pale,  his  eyes  wild-looking,  and  around  his 
head  he  wore  a white  bandage,  stained  with  his  own 
blood.  Christina  screamed  and  his  mother  fainted. 

“What  is  the  matter.  Max?  ” I asked. 

“It  is  all  in  vain,”  he  replied  despairingly;  “I 
thought  1 would  be  able  to  create  order  out  of  chaos 
and  reconstruct  society.  But  that  dream  is  past.” 

“ What  has  happened  ? ” I asked. 

“I  went  this  morning  to  Prince  Cabano’s  palace 
to  get  Caesar  to  help  me.  He  had  held  high  carnival 
all  night  and  was  beastly  drunk,  in  bed.  Then  I 
went  out  to  counsel  with  the  mob.  But  another 


CjESAR’S  column. 


331 


calamity  had  happened.  Last  night  the  vice-presi- 
dent— the  Jew — fled,  in  one  of  the  Demons,  carrying 
away  one  hundred  million  dollars  that  had  been 
left  in  his  charge.” 

“ Where  did  he  go  ? ” I asked. 

“No  one  knows.  He  took  several  of  his  trusted 
followers,  of  his  own  nation,  with  him.  It  is  rumored 
that  he  has  gone  to  Judea;  that  he  proposes  to  make 
himself  king  in  Jerusalem,  and,  with  his  vast  wealth, 
re-establish  the  glories  of  Solomon,  and  revive  the 
ancient  splendors  of  the  Jewish  race,  in  the  midst  of 
the  ruins  of  the  world.” 

“What  effect  has  his  flight  had  on  the  mob?”  I 
asked. 

“A  terrible  effect.  They  are  wild  with  suspi- 
cions and  full  of  rumors.  They  gathered,  in  a vast 
concourse,  around  the  Cabano  palace,  to  prevent 
Caesar  leaving  them,  like  the  cripple.  They  believe 
that  he,  too,  has  another  hundred  millions  hid- 
den in  the  cellars  of  the  palace.  They  clamored 
for  him  to  appear.  The  tumult  of  the  mob  was 
frightful. 

“I  rose  to  address  them  from  the  steps  of  the 
palace.  I told  them  they  need  not  fear  that  Caesar 
would  leave  them — he  was  dead  drunk,  asleep  in 
bed.  If  they  feared  treachery,  let  them  appoint  a 
committee  to  search  the  palace  for  treasure.  But — 
I went  on — there  was  a great  danger  before  them 
which  they  had  not  thought  of.  They  must  estab- 
lish some  kind  of  government  that  they  would  all 
obey.  If  they  did  not  they  would  soon  be  starving. 
I explained  to  them  that  this  vast  city,  of  ten  mill- 
ion inhabitants,  had  been  fed  by  thousands  of  car- 
loads of  food  which  were  brought  in,  every  day,  from 


332 


CESAR’S  COLUMN. 


tlie  outside  world.  Now  the  cars  had  ceased  to  run. 
The  mob  had  eaten  up  all  the  food  in  the  shops,  and 
to-morrow  they  would  begin  to  feel  the  pangs  of 
starvation.  And  I tried  to  make  them  understand 
what  it  meant  for  ten  million  people  to  be  starving 
together. 

“ They  became  very  quiet.  One  man  cried  out : 

“ ‘ What  would  you  have  us  do?  ’ 

“ ‘You  must  establish  a provisional  government. 
You  must  select  one  man  to  whose  orders  you  will 
all  submit.  Then  you  must  appoint  a board  of  coun- 
selors to  assist  him.  Then  the  men  among- you 
who  are  engineers  and  conductors  of  trains  of  cars 
and  of  air-lines  must  reassume  their  old  places; 
and  they  must  go  forth  into  the  country  and  ex- 
change the  spoils  you  have  gathered  for  cattle  and 
flour  and  vegetables,  and  all  other  things  necessary 
for  life.’ 

“ ‘He  wants  to  make  himself  a king,’  growled 
one  rufflan. 

“ ‘Yes,’  said  another,  ‘and  set  us  all  at  work 
again.’ 

“‘He’s  a d d aristocrat,  anyhow,’  cried  a 

third. 

“But  there  were  some  who  had  sense  enough  to  see 
that  I was  right,  and  the  mob  at  once  divided  into 
two  clamorous  factions.  Words  led  to  blows.  A 
number  were  killed.  Three  wretches  rushed  at  me. 
I shot  one  dead,  and  wounded  another;  the  third 
gave  me  a flesh  wound  on  the  head  with  a sword ; my 
hat  broke  the  force  of  the  blow,  or  it  would  have 
made  an  end  of  me.  As  he  raised  his  weapon  for  a 
second  stroke,!  shot  him  dead.  My  friends  forced  me 
through  the  door  of  the  palace,  in  front  of  which  I 


. CESAR’S  COLUMN. 


333 


had  been  standing;  we  double-locked  it  1o  keep  out 
the  surging  wild  beasts;  I fled  through  the  back 
door,  and  reached  here. 

“All  hope  is  gone,”  he  added  sadly;  “I  can  do 
nothing  now  but  provide  for  our  own  safety.” 


CHAPTER  XXXVnl. 

THE  FLIGHT. 

“Yes,”  I replied,  “we  cannot  remain  here  another 
night.  Think  what  w'ould  be  the  effect  if  a fire  broke 
out  anywhere  in  this  block ! ” 

He  looked  at  me  in  a startled  way. 

“ True,”  he  said ; “ we  must  fly.  I would  cheerfully 
give  my  life  if  its  sacrifice  would  arrest  these  horrors; 
but  it  would  not.” 

Christina  came  and  stood  beside  him.  He  wrote  a 
letter  to  General  Quincy.  He  made  three  copies  of  it. 
Selecting  three  of  his  best  men,  he  gave  each  a copy, 
and  told  them  to  make  their  way  together,  well 
armed,  to  the  armory  of  the  air-ships.  It  was  a 
perilous  journey,  but  if  either  of  them  reached  his 
destination,  he  was  to  deliver  his  copy  of  the  letter 
to  the  general.  In  it  Max  asked  General  Quincy 
to  send  him  one  of  the  “Demons,”  as  promised,  that 
night  at  eight  o’clock;  and  he  also  requested,  a,s  a 
signal  that  the  messengers  had  reached  him  and  that 
the  air-ship  would  come,  that  he  would  send  up  a 
single  DemoK,high  in  the  air,  at  once  on  receiving  the 
letter. 

We  went  to  the  roof  with  our  field-glasses.  In  two 
hours,  we  thought,  the  messengers,  walking  rapidly, 
would  reach  the  armory.  Two  hours  passed.  Nothing 
was  visible  in  the  heavens  in  the  direction  of  the 
armory,  although  we  sw'ept  the  whole  region  with  our 
glasses.  What  if  our  messengers  had  all  been  slain  ? 

334 


CESAR’S  COLUMN. 


335 


Whatif  General  Quincy  refused  to  do  as  he  had  agreed, 
for  no  promises  were  likely  to  bind  a man  in  such  a 
dreadful  period  of  anarchy?  Two  hours  and  a quar- 
ter— two  hours  and  a half  passed,  and  no  signal.  We 
began  to  despair.  Could  we  survive  another  night  of 
horrors?  At  last  Estella,  who  had  been  quietly  look- 
ing to  the  west  with  her  glass,  cried  out : 

“ See ! there  is  something  rising  in  the  air.” 

We  looked.  Yes,  thank  heaven ! it  was  the  signal. 
The  Demon  rose  like  a great  hawk  to  a considerable 
height,  floated  around  for  awhile  in  space,  and  then 
slowly  descended. 

It  would  come ! 

All  hands  were  set  at  work.  A line  was  formed 
from  the  roof  to  the  rooms  below ; and  everything  of 
value  that  we  desired  to  carry  with  us  was  passed 
from  hand  to  hand  along  the  line  and  placed  in 
heaps,  ready  for  removal.  Even  the  women  joined 
eagerly  in  the  work.  We  did  not  look  for  our  mes- 
sengers ; they  were  to  return  to  us  in  the  air-ship. 

The  afternoon  was  comparatively  quiet.  The 
mobs  on  the  street  seemed  to  be  looking  for  food 
rather  than  treasure.  They  were,  however,  generally 
resting,  worn  out;  they  were  sleeping — preparing  for 
the  evening.  With  nightfall  the  satnrnalia  of  death 
would  begin  again  with  redoubled  force. 

We  ate  our  dinner  at  six;  and  then  Mr.  Phillips 
suggested  that  we  should  all  join  in  family  prayers. 
We  might  never  have  another  opportunity  to  do  so, 
he  said.  He  prayed  long  and  earnestly  to  God  to 
save  the  world  and  protect  his  dear  ones  ; and  we  all 
joined  fervently  in  his  supplications  to  the  throne  of 
grace. 

At  half  past  seven,  equipped  for  the  journey,  we 


336 


CESAR'S  COLUMN. 


were  all  upon  tlie  roof,  looking  out  in  the  direction 
of  the  west  for  the  coming  of  the  Demon.  A little 
before  eight  we  saw  it  rise  through  the  twilight  above 
the  armory.  Quincy,  then,  was  true  to  his  pledge.  It 
came  rapidly  toward  us,  high  in  the  air ; it  circled 
around,  and  at  last  began  to  descend  just  over  our 
heads.  It  paused  about  ten  feet  above  the  roof,  and 
two  ladders  were  let  down.  The  ladies  and  Mr.  Phil- 
lips were  first  helped  up  to  the  deck  of  the  vessel ; and 
the  men  began  to  carry  up  the  boxes,  bales,  trunks, 
money,  books  and  instruments  we  had  collected  to- 
gether. 

Just  at  this  moment  a greater  burst  of  tumult 
reached  my  ears.  I went  to  the  parapet  and  looked 
down.  Up  the  street,  to  the  north,  came  a vast  con- 
course of  people.  It  stretched  far  back  for  many 
blocks.  My  first  notion  was  that  they  were  all 
drunk,  their  outcries  were  so  vociferous.  They  shout- 
ed, yelled  and  screamed.  Some  of  them  bore  torches, 
and  at  their  head  marched  a ragged  fellow  with  a long 
pole,  which  he  carried  upright  before  him.  At  the  top 
of  it  was  a black  mass,  which  I could  not  make  out 
in  the  twilight.  At  this  instant  they  caught  sight  of 
the  Demon,  and  the  uproar  redoubled ; they  danced 
like  madmen,  and  I could  hear  Max’s  name  shouted 
from  a hundred  lips. 

“What  does  it  mean?”  I asked  him. 

“It  means  that  they  are  after  me.  Hurry  up, 
men,”  he  continued,  “hiirry  up.” 

We  all  sprang  to  work ; the  women  stood  at  the 
top  and  received  the  smaller  articles  as  a line  of  men 
passed  them  up. 

Then  came  a thunderous  voice  from  below: 

“ Open  the  door,  or  we  will  break  it  down.” 


CESAR'S  COLUMN.  387 

Max  replied  by  casting  a bomb  over  the  parapet, 
it  exploded,  killing  half  a dozen  men.  But  this  mob 
was  not  to  be  intimidated  like  the  thieves.  The  bul- 
lets began  t,o  fly ; fortunately  the  gathering  darkness 
protected  us.  The  crowd  grew  blacker,  and  more 
dense  and  turbulent.  Then  a number  of  stalwart  fel- 
lows appeared,  bearing  a long  beam,  which  they  pro- 
posed to  use  as  a battering-ram,  to  burst  open  the 
door,  which  had  resisted  all  previous  attacks. 

“Bring  down  one  of  the  death  bombs,”  said  Max 
to  the  men  in  the  Demon. 

Two  stout  fellows,  belonging  to  the  air-ship,  car- 
I'ied  down,  carefully,  between  them,  a great  black 
sphere  of  iron. 

“ Over  with  it ! ” cried  Max. 

There  was  a crash,  an  explosion;  the  insurgents 
caught  a whiff  of  the  poisoned  air ; the  men  dropped 
the  beam ; there  was  a rush  backward  amid  cries  of 
terror,  and  the  street  was  clear  for  a considerable 
space  around  the  house. 

“ Hurry,  men,  hurry ! ” cried  Max. 

I peeped  over  the  parapet.  A number  of  the  in- 
surgents were  rushing  into  a house  three  doors  dis- 
tant. In  a few  moments  they  poured  out  again, 
looking  behind  them  as  they  ran. 

“I  fear  they  have  fired  that  house,” I said  to  Max. 

“I  expected  as  much,”  he  replied,  quietly  . 

“ Hurry,  men,  hurry,”  he  again  cried. 

The  piles  on  the  roof  were  diminishing  rapidly.  I 
turned  to  pass  up  bundles  of  my  precious  books. 
Another  sound  broke  on  my  ears ; a roaring  noise 
that  rapidly  increased — it  was  the  fire.  The  mob 
cheered.  Then  bursts  of  smoke  poured  out  of  the 
windows  of  the  doomed  house ; then  great  arms  and 
22 


338 


CESAR’S  COLUMN. 


hands  of  flame  reached  out  and  sna  jiped  and  clutched 
at  the  darkness,  as  if  they  would  drag  down  ancient 
Night  itself,  with  all  its  crown  of  stai's,  upon  the  pal- 
pitating breast  of  the  passionate  conflagration. 
Then  the  roof  smoked;  then  it  seemed  to  burst 
open,  and  vast  volumes  of  flame  and  smoke  and 
showers  of  sparks  spouted  forth.  The  blaze  brought 
the  mob  into  fearful  relief,  but  fortunately  it  was 
between  ns  and  the  great  bulk  of  our  enemies. 

“My  God,”  said  Max,  “ it  is  Caesar’s  head ! ” 

I looked,  and  there,  sure  enough,  upon  the  top  of 
the  long  pole  I had  before  noticed,  was  the  head  of 
the  redoubtable  giant.  It  stood  out  as  if  it  had  been 
painted  in  gory  characters  by  the  light  of  the  burn- 
ing house  upon  that  background  of  darkness.  I 
could  see  the  glazed  and  dusty  eyes ; the  protruding 
tongue;  the  great  lower  jaw  hanging  down  in  hideous 
fashion ; and  from  the  thick,  bull-like  neck  were  sus- 
pended huge  gouts  of  dried  and  blackened  blood. 

“It  is  the  flrst  instinct  of  such  mobs,”  said  Max, 
quietly,  “to  suspect  their  leaders  and  slay  them. 
They  killed  Caesar,  and  then  came  after  me.  When 
they  saw  the  air-ship  they  were  confirmed  in  their 
suspicions;  they  believe  that  I am  carrying  away 
their  treasure.” 

I could  not  turn  my  eyes  from  that  ferocious 
head.  It  fascinated  me.  It  waved  and  reeled  with 
the  surging  of  the  mob.  It  seemed  to  me  to  be  execut- 
ing a hideous  dance  in  mid-air,  in  the  midst  of  that 
terrible  scene;  it  floated  over  it  like  a presiding 
demon.  The  protruding  tongue  leered  at  the  blazing 
house  and  the  unspeakable  horrors  of  that  assem- 
blage, lit  up,  as  it  was,  in  all  its  awful  features,  by  the 
towering  conflagration. 


COLUMN. 


339 


The  crowd  yelled  and  the  fire  roared.  The  next 
house  was  blazing  now,  and  the  roof  of  the  one  near- 
est us  was  smoking'.  The  mob,  perceiving  that  we 
did  not  move,  concluded  that  the  machinery  of  the 
air-ship  was  broken,  and  screamed  with  joy  as 
the  flames  approached  us. 

Up,  up,  went  bundle  and  package  and  box ; faster, 
and  faster,  and  faster.  We  were  not  to  be  intimi- 
dated by  fire  or  mobs ! The  roof  of  the  house  next  us 
was  now  blazing,  and  we  could  hear  the  fire,  like  a 
furnace,  roaring  within  it. 

The  work  is  finished ; every  parcel  is  safe. 

“Up,  up,  men!  ” 

Max  and  I were  the  last  to  leave  the  roof ; it  had 
become  insufferably  hot.  We  stood  on  the  deck ; the 
engineer  touched  the  lever  of  the  electric  engine ; the 
great  bird  swayed  for  an  instant,  and  then  began  to 
rise,  like  a veritable  Phoenix  from  its  nest  of  flame, 
surrounded  by  cataracts  of  sparks.  As  the  mob  saw 
us  ascend,  veiled  dimly,  at  first,  by  that  screen  of 
conflagration,  they  groaned  with  dismay  and  disap- 
pointment. The  bullets  flew  and  hissed  around  us, 
but  our  metallic  sides  laughed  them  to  scorn.  Up, 
up,  straight  and  swift  as  an  arrow  we  rose.  The 
mighty  city  lay  unrolled  below  us,  like  a great  map, 
starred  here  and  there  with  burning  houses.  Above 
the  trees  of  Union  Square,  my  glass  showed  me  a 
white  line,  lighted  by  the  bon-fires,  where  Caesar’s 
Column  was  towering  to  the  skies,  bearing  the  epi 
taph  of  the  world. 

I said  to  Max ; 

“What  will  those  millions  do  to-morrow?” 

“Starve,”  he  said. 

“What  will  they  do  next  week?  ” 


340 


CMSAR*S  COLUMN. 


“Devour  each  other,”  he  replied. 

There  was  silence  for  a time. 

“ Will  not  civil  government  rise  again  out  of  this 
ruin?  ”1  asked. 

“Not  for  a long  time,”  he  replied.  “Ignorance, 
passion,  suspicion,  brutality,  criminality,  will  be  the 
lions  in  the  path.  Men  who  have  such  dreadful  mem- 
ories of  labor  can  scarcely  be  forced  back  into  it.  And 
who  is  to  employ  them?  After  about  three-fourths 
of  the  human  family  have  died  of  hunger,  or  been 
killed,  the  remainder,  constituting,  by  the  law  of  the 
survival  of  the  fittest,  the  most  powerful  and  brutal, 
will  find  it  necessary,  for  self-defense  against  each 
other,  to  form  squads  or  gangs.  The  greatest  fighter 
in  each  of  these  will  become  chief,  as  among  all  sav- 
ages. Then  the  history  of  the  world  will  be  slowly 
repeated.  A bold  rxaffian  will  conquer  a number  of  the 
adjacent  squads,  and  become  a king.  Gradually, 
and  in  its  rudest  forms,  labor  will  begin  again;  at 
first  exercised  principally  by  slaves.  Men  xvill  ex- 
change liberty  for  protection  . After  a century  or  two 
a kind  of  commerce  may  arise.  Then  will  follow  other 
centuries  of  wars,  between  provinces  or  nations.  A 
new  aristocracy  will  spring  up.  Culture  will  lift  its 
head.  A great  power,  like  Rome  in  the  old  world, 
may  arise.  Some  vast  superstition  may  take  pos- 
session of  the  world ; and  Alfred,  Victoria  and  Wash- 
ington may  be  worshiped,  as  Saturn,  Juno  and  Her- 
cules were  in  the  past;  with  perhaps  dreadful  and 
bloody  rites  like  those  of  the  Carthaginians  and  an- 
cient Mexicans.  And  so,  step  by  step,  mankind  will 
re-enact  the  great  human  drama,  which  begins  al- 
ways with  a tragedy,  runs  through  a comedy,  and 
terminates  in  a catastrophe,” 


cj!:sar's  column. 


341 


The  city  was  disappearing — we  were  over  the 
ocean — the  cool  salt  breeze  was  refreshing.  We 
both  looked  back. 

“ Think,”  I said,  “what  is  going  on  yonder.” 

Max  shuddered.  There  was  a sullen  light  in  his 
eyes.  He  looked  at  his  father,  who  was  on  his  knees 
praying. 

“I  would  destroy  the  world,”  he  said,  “to  save 
him  from  a living  death.” 

He  was  justifying  himself  unto  himself. 

“Gabriel,”  he  said,  after  a pause,  “if  this  out- 
break had  not  occurred  now,  yet  would  it  certainly 
have  come  to  pass.  It  was  but  a question  of  time. 
The  breaking-strain  on  humanity  was  too  great. 
The  world  could  not  have  gone  on;  neither  could 
it  have  turned  back.  The  crash  was  inevitable.  It 
may  be  God’s  way  of  wiping  off  the  blackboard.  It 
may  be  that  the  ancient  legends  of  the  destruction 
of  our  race  by  flood  and  Are  are  but  dim  remem- 
brances of  events  like  that  which  is  now  happening.” 

“It  may  be  so.  Max,”  I replied;  and  we  were 
silent. 

Even  the  sea  bore  testimony  to  the  ruin  of  man. 
The  light-houses  no  longer  held  up  their  fingers  of 
flame  to  warn  the  mariner  from  the  treacherous 
rocks.  No  air-ship,  brilliant  with  many  lights  shin- 
ing like  innumerable  eyes,  and  heavy  with  passen- 
gers, streamed  past  us  with  fierce  swiftness,  splitting 
the  astonished  and  complaining  air.  Here  and 
there  a sailing  vessel,  or  a steamer,  toiled  laboriously 
along,  little  dreaming  that,  at  their  journey’s  end, 
starving  creatures  would  swarm  up  their  sides  to 
kill  and  devour. 

How  still  and  peaceful  was  the  night— the  great. 


342 


CESAR’S  COLUMN. 


solemn,  patient  night!  How  sweet  and  pure  the  air! 
How  delightful  the  silence  to  ears  that  had  rung  so 
lately  with  the  clamors  of  that  infuriated  mob! 
How  pleasant  the  darkness  to  eyeballs  seared  so 
long  by  fire  and  flame  and  sights  of  murder!  Es- 
tella  and  Christina  came  and  sat  down  near  us. 
Their  faces  showed  the  torture  they  had  endured, — 
not  so  much  from  fear  as  from  the  shock  and  agony 
with  which  goodness  contemplates  terrific  and  tri- 
umphant evil. 

I looked  into  the  grand  depths  of  the  stars 
above  us;  at  that  endless  procession  of  shining 
worlds ; at  that  illimitable  expanse  of  silence.  And  I 
thought  of  those  vast  gaps  and  lapses  of  manless 
time,  when  all  these  starry  hosts  unrolled  and  mar- 
shaled themselves  before  the  attentive  eyes  of  God, 
and  it  had  not  yet  entered  into  his  heart  to  create 
that  swarming,  writhing,  crawling,  contentious  mass 
we  call  humanity.  And  I said  to  myself,  “Why 
should  a God  condescend  to  such  a work  as  man  ? ” 

And  yet,  again,  I felt  that  one  grateful  heart, 
that  darted  out  the  living  line  of  its  love  and  adora- 
tion from  this  dark  and  perturbed  earth,  up  to  the 
shining  throne  of  the  Great  Intelligence,  must  be 
of  more  moment  and  esteem  in  the  universe  than 
millions  of  tons  of  mountains — yea,  than  a wilderness 
of  stars.  For  matter  is  but  the  substance  with 
which  God  works;  while  thought,  love,  conscience 
and  consciousness  are  parts  of  God  himself.  We 
think ; therefore  we  are  divine : we  pray ; therefore  we 
are  immortal. 

Part  of  God ! The  awful,  the  inexpressible,  the  in- 
comprehensible God.  His  terrible  hand  swirls,  with 
unresting  power,  yonder  innumerable  congregation 


CJESAR’S  COLUMN. 


343 


of  suns  in  their  mighty  orbits,  and  yet  stoops,  with 
tender  touch,  to  build  up  the  petals  of  the  anemone, 
and  paint  with  rainbow  hues  the  mealy  wings  of 
the  butterfly. 

I could  have  wept  over  man ; but  I remembered 
that  God  lives  beyond  the  stars. 


CHAPTER  XXXIX. 

EUROPE. 

The  next  day  we  were  flying  over  the  ocean.  The 
fluctuous  and  changeable  waves  were  beneath  us, 
with  their  multitudinous  hues  and  colors,  as  light 
and  foam  and  billows  mingled.  Far  as  the  eye 
could  reach,  they  seemed  to  be  climbing  over  each 
other  forever,  like  the  endless  competitions  of  men  in 
the  arena  of  life.  Above  us  was  the  panorama  of 
the  clouds — so  often  the  harbingers  of  terror;  for 
even  in  their  gentlest  forms  they  foretell  the  tem- 
pest, which  is  ever  gathering  the  mists  around  it  like 
a garment,  and,  however  slow-paced,  is  still  ad- 
vancing. 

A whale  spouted.  Happy  nature!  How  cunning- 
ly were  the  wet,  sliding  waves  accommodated  to  that 
smooth  skin  and  those  nerves  which  rioted  in  the  play 
of  the  tumbling  waters.  A school  of  dolphins  leaped 
and  gamboled,  showing  their  curved  backs  to  the 
sun  in  sudden  glimpses;  a vast  family;  merry,  so- 
cial, jocund,  abandoned  to  happiness.  The  gulls 
flew  about  us  as  if  our  ship  was  indeed  a larger  bird ; 
and  I thought  of  the  poet’s  lines  wherein  he  de- 
scribes— 

The  gray  gull,  balanced  on  its  bow-like  wings, 

Between  two  black  waves,  seeking  where  to  dive.’’ 

And  here  were  more  kindly  adjustments.  How 
the  birds  took  advantage  of  the  wind  and  made  it 
lift  them  or  sink  them,  or  propel  them  forward; 

344 


CAiHAlVS  COLUMN. 


345 


tacking,  with  infinite  skill,  right  in  the  eye  of  the 
gale,  like  a sailing-vessel.  It  was  not  toil — it  was 
delight, rapture— the  very  glory  and  ecstasy  of  living. 
Everywhere  the  benevolence  of  God  was  manifest  r 
light,  sound,  air,  sea,  clouds,  beast,  fish  and  bird; 
we  were  in  the  midst  of  all ; we  were  a part  of  all ; we 
rejoiced  in  all. 

And  then  my  thoughts  reverted  to  the  great  city ; 
to  that  congregation  of  houses;  to  those  streets 
swarming  with  murderers ; to  that  hungry,  moaning 
multitude. 

Why  did  they  not  listen  to  me?  Why  did  rich  and 
poor  alike  mock  me?  If  they  had  not  done  so,  this 
dreadful  cup  might  have  been  averted  from  their  lips. 
But  it  would  seem  as  if  faith  and  civilization  were 
incompatible.  Christ  was  only  possible  in  a bare- 
footed world ; and  the  few  who  wore  shoes  murdered 
him.  What  dark  perversity  v/as  it  in  the  blood  of  the 
race  that  made  it  wrap  itself  in  misery,  like  a gar- 
ment, while  all  nature  was  happy  ? 

Max  told  me  that  we  had  had  a narrow  escape. 
Of  the  three  messengers  we  had  sent  forth  to  General 
Quincy,  but  one  reached  him ; the  others  had  been 
slain  on  the  streets.  And  when  that  solitai’y  man 
fought  his  way  through  to  the  armory  he  found  the 
Mamelukes  of  the  Air  full  of  preparations  for  a fiight 
that  night  to  the  mountain  regions  of  South 
America.  Had  w'e  delayed  our  departure  for  another 
day,  or  had  all  three  of  our  messengers  been  killed 
by  the  marauders,  we  must  all  have  perished  in  the 
midst  of  the  fiames  of  the  burning  building.  We 
joined  Mr.  Phillips,  therefore,  with  unwonted  hearti- 
ness in  the  morning  prayers. 

The  next  day  we  came  -in  sight  of  the  shores  of 


346 


C^SAE’S  COLUMN. 


Europe.  As  we  drew  near,  we  passed  over  multitudes 
of  open  boats,  river  steamers  and  ships  of  all  kinds, 
crowded  with  people.  Many  of  these  vessels  were 
unfitted  for  a sea  voyage,  but  the  horrors  they  fled 
from  were  greater  than  those  the  great  deep  could 
conjure  up.  Their  occupants  shouted  to  us,  through 
speaking-trumpets,  to  turn  back;  that  all  Europe 
was  in  ruins.  And  we,  in  reply,  warned  them  of  the 
condition  of  things  in  America,  and  advised  them  to 
seek  out  uncivilized  lands,  where  no  men  dwelt  but 
barbarians. 

As  we  neared  the  shore  we  could  see  that  the 
beaches,  wharves  and  tongues  of  sand  were  every- 
where black  with  people,  who  struggled  like  madmen 
to  secure  the  few  boats  or  ships  that  remained.  With 
such  weapons  as  they  had  hurriedly  collected  they 
fought  back  the  better-armed  masses  of  wild  and  des- 
perate men  who  hung  upon  their  skirts,  plying  the 
dreadful  trade  of  murder.  Some  of  the  agonized 
multitude  shrieked  to  us  for  help.  Our  hearts  bled 
for  them,  but  we  could  do  nothing.  Their  despairing 
hands  were  held  up  to  us  in  supplication  as  the  air- 
ship darted  over  them. 

But  why  dilate  upon  the  dreadful  picture  that  un- 
rolled beneath  us?  Hamlets,  villages,  towns,  cities, 
blackened  and  smoking  masses  of  ruin.  The  conflicts 
were  yet  raging  on  every  country  road  and  city 
street;  we  could  hear  the  shrieks  of  the  flying,  the 
rattle  of  rifles  and  pistols  in  the  hands  of  the  pur- 
suers. Desolation  was  everywhere.  Some  even 
rushed  out  and  fired  their  guns  viciously  at  us,  as  if 
furious  to  see  anything  they  could  not  destroy. 
Never  before  did  I think  mankind  was  so  base.  I 
realized  how  much  of  the  evil  in  human  nature  had 


CMSAB’S  COLUMN. 


847 


been  for  ages  suppressed  and  kept  in  subjection  by 
the  iron  force  of  law  and  its  terrors.  Was  man  the 
joint  product  of  an  angel  and  a devil?  Certainly  in 
this  paroxysm  of  fate  he  seemed  to  be  demoniacal. 

We  turned  southward  over  the  trampled  gardens 
and  vineyards  of  France.  A great  volcanic  lava  field 
of  fiame  and  ashes — burning,  smoking — many  miles 
in  extent — showed  where  Paris  had  been.  Around  it 
ragged  creatures  were  prowling,  looking  for  some- 
thing to  eat,  digging  up  roots  in  the  fields.  At  one 
place,  in  the  open  country,  I observed,  ahead  of  us, 
a tall  and  solitary  tree  in  a field ; near  it  were  the 
smouldering  ruins  of  a great  house.  I saw  some- 
thing white  moving  in  the  midst  of  the  foliage,  near 
the  top  of  the  tree.  I turned  my  glass  upon  it.  It 
was  a woman,  holding  something  in  her  arms. 

“Can  we  not  take  her  up?”  I asked  the  captain 
of  the  air-ship. 

“We  cannot  stop  the  vessel  in  that  distance  — but 
we  might  return  to  it,”  he  replied. 

“Then  do  so,  for  God’s  sake,”  I said. 

We  swooped  downward.  We  passed  near  the 
tree.  The  woman  screamed  to  us  to  stop,  and 
held  up  an  infant.  Christina  and  Estella  and 
all  the  other  women  wept.  We  passed  the  tree 
— the  despairing  cries  of  the  woman  were  dread- 
ful to  listen  to.  But  she  takes  courage;  sees  us 
sweep  about;  we  come  slowly  back;  we  stop; 
a rope  ladder  falls;  I descend;  I grasp  the  child’s 
clothes  between  my  teeth ; I help  the  woman  up  the 
ladder.  She  falls  upon  the  deck  of  the  ship,  and  cries 
out  in  French : “ Spare  my  child ! ” Dreadful  period ! 
when  every  human  being  is  looked  upon  as  a mur- 
derer. The  women  comfort  her.  Her  clothes  are  in 


348 


CJESAR’S  COLUMN. 


rags,  but  upon  her  fingers  are  costly  jewels.  Her 
babe  is  restored  to  her  arms ; she  faints  with  hunger 
and  exhaustion.  For  three  days,  she  tells  us,  she  has 
been  hidden  in  that  tree,  without  food  or  drink ; and 
has  seen  all  dear  to  her  perish— all  but  her  little 
Frangois.  And  with  what  delight  Estella  and  Chris- 
tina and  the  rest  cuddle  and  feed  the  pretty,  chubby, 
hungry  little  stranger ! 

Thank  God  for  the  angel  that  dwells  in  human 
nature.  And  woe  unto  him  who  bids  the  devil  rise  to 
cast  it  out ! 

Max,  during  all  this  day,  is  buried  in  profound 
thought.  He  looks  out  at  the  desolated  world  and 
sighs.  Even  Christina  fails  to  attract  his  attention. 
Why  should  he  be  happy  when  there  is  so  much 
misery  ? Did  he  not  help  to  cause  it? 

But,  after  a time,  we  catch  sight  of  the  blue 
and  laughing  waters  of  the  Mediterranean,  with  its 
pleasant,  bosky  islands. 

This  is  gone,  and  in  a little  while  the  yellow  sands 
of  the  great  desert  stretch  beneath  us,  and  extend 
ahead  of  us,  far  as  the  eye  can  reach.  We  pass  a toil- 
ing caravan,  with  its  awkward,  shuffling,  patient 
camels,  and  its  dark  attendants.  They  have  heard 
nothing,  in  these  solitudes,  of  the  convulsions  that 
rend  the  world.  They  pray  to  Allah  and  Mahomet 
and  are  happy.  The  hot,  blue,  cloudless  sky  rises  in 
a great  dome  above  their  heads ; their  food  is  scant 
and  rude,  but  in  their  veins  there  burn  not  those  wild 
fevers  of  ambition  which  have  driven  mankind  to 
such  frenzies  and  horrors.  They  live  and  die  as  their 
ancestors  did,  ten  thousand  years  ago — unchange- 
able as  the  stars  above  their  heads;  and  these  are 
even  as  they  shone  clear  and  bright  when  the  Chal- 


CAESAR'S  COLUMN. 


349 


dean  shepherds  first  studied  the  outlines  of  the  con- 
stellations, and  marked  the  pathways  of  the  wander- 
ing planets. 

Before  us,  at  last,  rise  great  blue  masses,  towering 
high  in  air,  like  clouds,  and  extending  from  east  to 
west ; and  these,  in  a little  while,  as  we  rush  on,  re- 
solve themselves  into  a mighty  mountain  range, 
snow-capped,  with  the  yellow  desert  at  its  feet, 
stretching  out  like  a Persian  rug. 

I direct  the  pilot,  and  in  another  hour  the  great 
ship  begins  to  abate  .its  pace;  it  sweeps  in  great 
circles.  I see  the  sheep  flying  terrified  by  our  shadow; 
then  the  large,  roomy,  white-walled  house,  with  its 
broad  verandas,  comes  into  view ; and  before  it,  look- 
ing up  at  us  in  surprise,  are  my  dear  mother  and 
brothers,  and  our  servants. 

The  ship  settles  down  from  its  long  voyage.  We 
are  at  home.  We  are  at  peace. 


CHAPTER  XL. 

THE  GARDEN  IN  THE  MOUNTAINS. 

[TAese  concluding  lines  are  from  the  journal  of 
Gabriel  Weltstein.'] 

Since  my  return  home  I have  not  been  idle.  In 
the  first  place,  I collected  and  put  together  the 
letters  I had  written  to  my  brother  Heinrich,  from 
New  York.  I did  this  because  I thought  they  were 
important,  as  a picture  of  the  destruction  of  civili-’ 
zation,  and  of  the  events  which  led  up  to  it.  I fur- 
thermore had  them  printed  on  our  printing-press, 
believing  that  every  succeeding  century  would 
make  them  more  valuable  to  posterity  j and  that  in 
time  they  would  be  treasured  as  we  now  treasure 
the  glimpses  of  the  world  before  the  Deluge,  con- 
tained in  the  Book  of  Genesis. 

And  I have  concluded  to  still  further  preserve,  in 
the  pages  of  this  journal,  a record  of  events  as  they 
transpire. 

As  soon  as  I had  explained  to  my  family  the 
causes  of  our  return — for  which  they  were  in  part 
prepared  by  my  letters  to  Heinrich — and  had  made 
them  acquainted  with  my  wife  and  friends,  I sum- 
moned a meeting  of  the  inhabitants  of  our  col- 
ony— there  are  about  five  thousand  of  them,  men, 
women  and  children. 

They  all  came,  bringing  baskets  of  provisions 
with  them,  as  to  a picnic.  We  met  in  an  ancient 

grove  upon  a hillside.  I spoke  to  them  and  told  them 

350 


CJESAR’S  COLUMN. 


351 


the  dreadful  tale  of  the  deBtructiou  of  the  world.  I 
need  not  suj  that  they  were  inex].)reissibly  siiocked 
by  the  awful  narrative.  Many  of  them  wept  bitterly, 
and  some  even  cried  out  aloud — for  they  had  left  be- 
hind them,  in  Switzerland,  many  dear  friends  and 
relatives.  I comforted  them  as  best  I could,  by  re- 
minding them  that  the  Helvetian  Eepublic  had  sur- 
vived a great  many  dynasties  and  revolutions ; that 
they  were  not  given  to  the  luxuries  and  excesses  that 
had  wrecked  the  world,  but  were  a primitive  people, 
among  whom  labor  had  always  remained  honorable. 
Moreover,  they  were  a warlike  race,  and  their  mount- 
ains were  their  fortifications;  and  they  would, 
therefore,  probably,  be  able  to  defend  themselves 
against  the  invasion  of  the  hungry  and  starving 
hordes  who  would  range  and  ravage  the  earth. 

The  first  question  for  us,  I said,  was  to  ascertain 
how  to  best  protect  ourselves  from  like  dangers.  We 
then  proceeded  to  discuss  the  physical  conformation 
of  our  country.  It  is  a vast  table-land,  situated  at 
a great  height  far  above  the  tropical  and  miasmatic 
plains,  and  surrounded  by  mountains  still  higher, 
in  which  dwell  the  remnants  of  that  curious 
white  race  first  described  by  Stanley.  The  only 
access  to  our  region  from  the  lower  country  is  by 
means  of  the  ordinary  Avagon  road  which  winds 
upward  through  a vast  defile  or  gorge  in  the  mount- 
ains. At  one  point  the-  precipitous  walls  of  this 
gorge  approach  so  closely  together  that  there  is 
room  for  only  two  wagons  to  pass  abreast.  We  de- 
termined to  assemble  all  our  men  the  next  day  at 
this  place,  and  build  up  a high  wall  that  would  com- 
pletely cut  off  communication  with  the  external 
world,  making  the  wall  so  thick  and  strong  that  it 


352 


CJ!:SAR’S  COLUMN. 


would  be  iiii|iossible  for  any  force  that  was  likely  to 
come  against  us  to  batter  it  down. 

This  was  successfully  accomplished ; and  a 
smooth,  straight  wall,  thirty  feet  high  and  about 
fifty  broad  at  its  widest  point,  now  rises  up  be- 
tween our  colony  and  the  external  world.  It  was  a 
melancholy  reflection  that  we — human  beings — 
were  thus  compelled  to  exclude  our  fellow-men. 

We  also  stationed  a guard  at  a high  point  near 
the  wall,  and  commanding  a view  of  its  approaches 
for  many  miles;  and  we  agi’eed  upon  a system  of 
bale-fires  {Bael  fires),  or  signal  beacons,  to  warn  the 
whole  settlement,  in  case  of  the  approach  of  an 
enemy.  < 

We  next  established  a workshop,  under  the  charge 
of  Carl  Jansen,  in  which  he  trained  some  of  our 
young  men  in  metal-working,  and  they  proceeded  to 
make  a large  supply  of  magazine  rifles,  so  that  every 
man  in  the  settlement  might  be  well  armed.  Carl  is 
one  of  those  quiet,  unpretending  men  whose  per- 
formance is  always  better  than  their  promise ; and  he 
is  a skillful  worker  in  the  metals.  The  iron  and  coal  we 
found  in  abundance  in  our  mountains.  We  also  cast 
a number  of  powerful  cannon,  placed  on  very  high 
wheels,  and  which  could  be  fired  vertically  in  case  we 
were  attacked  by  air-ships;  — although  I thought  it 
probable  that  the  secret  of  their  manufacture  would 
be  lost  to  the  world  in  the  destruction  of  civiliza- 
tion. We,  however,  carefully  housed  the  Demon  un- 
der a shed,  built  for  the  purpose,  intending,  when  we 
had  time,  to  make  other  air-ships  like  it,  with  which 
to  communicate  with  the  external  world,  should  we 
desire  to  do  so. 

Having  taken  all  steps  necessary  to  protect  our- 


CJ^SAR’S  COLUMN. 


.^53 

selves  from  others,  we  then  began  to  devise  means  by 
which  we  might  protect  ourselves  from  ourselves; 
for  the  worst  enemies  of  a people  are  always  found  in 
their  own  midst,  in  their  passions  and  vanities.  And 
the  most  dangerous  foes  of  a nation  do  not  advance 
with  drums  beating  and  colors  flying,  but  creep  upon 
it  insidiously,  with  the  noiseless  feet  of  a fatal  mal- 
ady. 

In  this  work  I received  great  help  from  Max,  and 
especially  from  his  father.  The  latter  had  quite  re- 
covered the  tone  of  his  mind.  He  was  familiar  with 
all  the  philosophies  of  government,  and  he  continued 
to  be  filled  with  an  ardent  desire  to  benefit  mankind. 
Max  had  seemed,  for  some  days  after  our  arrival,  to 
be  seriously  depressed,  brooding  over  his  own 
thoughts;  and  he  seized  eagerly  upon  the  work  I 
gave  him  to  do,  as  if  he  would  make  up  by  ser\uce 
to  our  people  for  any  injuries  he  had  done  the  world. 
We  held  many  consultations.  For  good  purposes 
and  honest  instincts  we  may  trust  to  the  multitude ; 
but  for  long-sighted  thoughts  of  philanthropy,  of 
statesmanship  and  statecraft,  we  must  look  to  a 
few  superior  intellects.  It  is,  however,  rarely  that 
the  capacity  to  do  good  and  the  desire  to  do  good 
are  found  united  id  one  man. 

When  we  had  formulated  our  scheme  of  govern- 
ment we  called  the  people  together  again ; and  after 
several  days  of  debate  it  was  substantially  agreed 
upon. 

In  our  constitution  we  first  of  all  acknowledged 
our  dependence  on  Almighty  God ; believing  that  all 
good  impulses  on  earth  spring  from  his  heart,  and 
that  no  government  can  prosper  which  does  not  pos- 
sess his  blessing. 

23 


354 


CjESARS  column. 


We  decreed,  secondly,  a republican  form  of  gov- 
ernment. Every  adult  man  and  woman  of  sound 
mind  is  permitted  to  vote.  We  adopted  a system  of 
voting  that  we  believed  would  insure  perfect  secrecy 
and  prevent  bribery — something  like  that  which  had 
already  been  in  vogue,  in  some  countries,  before  the 
revolution  of  the  Proletariat. 

The  highest  offense  known  to  our  laws  is  treason 
against  the  state,  and  this  consists  not  only  in  levying 
war  against  the  government,  but  in  corrupting  the 
voter  or  the  office-holder ; or  in  the  voter  or  office- 
holder selling  his  vote  or  his  services.  For  these 
crimes  the  penalty  is  death.  But,  as  they  are  in  their 
very  nature  secret  offenses,  we  provide,  in  these  cases 
only,  for  three  forms  of  verdict : “’guilty,”  “not  guilty” 
and  “suspected.”  This  latter  verdict  applies  to 
cases  where  the  jury  are  morally  satisfied,  from  the 
surrounding  circumstances,  that  the  man  is  guilty, 
although  there  is  not  enough  direct  and  positive  tes- 
timony to  convict  him.  The  jury  then  have  the 
power — not  as  a punishment  to  the  man,  but  for 
the  safety  of  the  community — to  declare  him  inca- 
pable of  voting  or  holding  office  for  a period  of 
not  less  than  one  nor  more  than  five  years.  We 
rank  bribery  and  corruption  as  high  treason;  be- 
cause experience  has  demonstrated  that  they  are 
more  deadly  in  their  consequences  to  a people  than 
open  war  against  the  government,  and  many  times 
more  so  than  murder. 

We  decreed,  next,  universal  and  compulsory  educa- 
tion. No  one  can  vote  who  cannot  read  and  write. 
We  believe  that  one  man’s  ignorance  should  not  coun- 
tervail the  just  influence  of  another  man’s  intelli- 
gence. Ignorance  is  not  only  ruinous  to  tlie  indi- 


VMSAU'S  COLUMN. 


355 


viduul,  but  destructive  to  society.  It  is  an  epidemic 
which  scatters  death  everywhere. 

We  abolish  all  private  schools,  except  the  higher 
institutions  and  colleges.  We  believe  it  to  be  essen- 
tial to  the  peace  and  safety  of  the  commonwealth 
that  the  children  of  all  the  people,  rich  and  poor, 
should,  during  the  period  of  growth,  associate  to- 
gether. In  this  way,  race,  sectarian  and  caste  pre- 
judices are  obliterated,  and  the  whole  community 
grow  up  together  as  brethren.  Otherwise,  in  a 
generation  or  two,  we  shall  have  the  people  split  up 
into  hostile  factions,  fenced  in  by  doctrinal  bigotries, 
suspicious  of  one  another,  and  antagonizing  one 
another  in  politics,  business  and  everything  else. 

But,  as  we  believe  that  it  is  not  right  to  cultivate 
the  heads  of  the  young  to  the  exclusion  of  their 
hearts,  we  mingle  with  abstract  knowledge  a cult 
of  morality  and  religion,  to  be  agreed  upon  by 
the  different  churches ; for  there  are  a hundred  points 
wherein  they  agree  to  one  wherein  they  differ.  And, 
as  to  the  points  peculiar  to  each  creed,  we  require  the 
children  to  attend  school  but  five  days  in  the  week, 
thus  leaving  one  day  for  the  parents  or  pastors  to 
take  charge  of  their  religious  training  in  addition 
to  the  care  given  them  on  Sundays. 

We  abolish  all  interest  on  money,  and  pnnisk  with 
imprisonment  the  man  who  receives  it. 

The  state  owms  all  roads,  streets,  telegraph  or 
telephone  lines,  railroads  and  mines,  and  takes 
exclusive  control  of  the  mails  and  express  matter. 

As  these  departments  will  in  time  furnish  employ- 
ment^ %r  a great  many  officials,  who  might  be 
massed  together  by  the  party  in  power,  and  wielded 
for  political  purposes,  we  decree  that  any  man  who 


S56 


CESAR'S  COLUMN. 


accepts  office  relinquishes,  for  the  time  being,  his 
right  of  suffrage.  The  servants  of  the  people  have 
no  right  to  help  rule  them ; and  he  who  thinks  more 
of  his  right  to  vote  than  of  an  office  is  at  liberty  to 
refuse  an  appointment. 

As  we  have  not  an  hereditary  nobility,  as  in 
England,  or  great  geographical  subdivisions,  as  in 
America,  we  are  constrained,  in  forming  our  Congress 
or  Parliament,  to  fall  back  upon  a new  device. 

Our  governing  body,  called  The  People,  is  divided 
into  three  branches.  The  first  is  elected  exclusively  by 
the  producers,  to-wit : the  workmen  in  the  towns  and 
the  farmers  and  mechanics  in  the  country ; and  those 
they  elect  must  belong  to  their  own  class.  As  these 
constitute  the  great  bulk  of  the  people,  the  body 
that  represents  them  stands  for  the  House  of  Com- 
mons in  England,  or  the  House  of  Eepresentatives 
in  America.  The  second  branch  is  elected  exclusive- 
ly by  and  from  the  merchants  and  manufacturers, 
and  all  who  are  engaged  in  trade,  or  as  employers  of 
labor.  The  third  branch,  which  is  the  smallest  of 
the  three,  is  selected  by  the  authors,  newspaper 
writers,  artists,  scientists,  philosophers  and  literary 
people  generally.  This  branch  is  expected  to  hold 
the  balance  of  power,  Avhere  the  other  two  bodies 
cannot  agree.  It  may  be  expected  that  they  will 
be  distinguished  by  broad  and  philanthropic  views 
and  new  and  generous  conceptions.  Where  a question 
arises  as  to  which  of  these  three  groups  or  subdivi- 
sions a voter  belongs  to,  the  matter  is  to  be  de- 
cided by  the  president  of  the  Eepublic. 

No  law  can  be  passed,  in  the  first  instance,  unless 
it  receives  a majority  vote  in  each  of  the  three 
branches,  or  a two-thirds  vote  in  two  of  them.  Where 


CESAR’S  COLUMN. 


357 


a difference  of  opinion  arises  upon  any  point  of 
legislation,  the  three  branches  are  to  assemble 
together  and  discuss  the  matter  at  issue,  and  try 
to  reach  an  agreement.  As,  however,  the  experience 
of  the  world  has  shown  that  there  is  more  danger 
of  the  upper  classes  combining  to  oppress  the 
producers  than  there  is  of  the  producers  conspiring 
to  govern  them, — except  in  the  last  desperate  extrem- 
ity, as  shown  recently, — it  is  therefore  decreed  that  if 
the  Commons,  by  a three-fourths  vote,  pass  any 
measure,  it  becomes  a law,  notwithstanding  the  veto 
of  the  other  two  branches. 

The  executive  is  elected  by  the  Congress  for  a 
period  of  four  years,  and  is  not  eligible  for  re-elec- 
tion. He  has  no  veto  and  no  control  of  any  pa- 
tronage. In  the  election  of  president  a two-thirds 
vote  of  each  branch  is  necessary. 

Whenever  it  can  be  shown,  in  the  future,  that 
in  any  foreign  country  the  wages  of  labor  and 
the  prosperity  of  the  people  are  as  high  as  in  our 
own,  then  free  trade  with  that  people  is  decreed. 
But  whenever  the  people  of  another  country  are  in 
greater  poverty,  or  working  at  a lower  rate  of  wages 
than  our  own,  then  all  commercial  intercourse  with 
them  shall  be  totally  interdicted.  For  impoverished 
labor  on  one  side  of  a line,  unless  walled  out,  must 
inevitably  drag  down  labor  on  the  other  side  of  the 
line  to  a like  condition.  Neither  is  the  device  of  a 
tariff  sufficient;  for,  although  it  is  better  than  free 
trade,  yet,  while  it  tends  to  keep  up  the  price  of  goods, 
it  lets  in  the  products  of  foreign  labor;  this  dimin- 
ishes the  wages  of  our  own  laborers  by  decreasing 
the  demand  for  their  productions  to  the  extent  of 
the  goods  imported;  and  thus,  while  the  price  of 


358 


CMSAR'S  COLUMN. 


commodities  is  held  up  for  the  benefit  of  the  manu- 
facturers,  the  price  of  labor  falls.  There  can  be  no 
equitable  commerce  between  two  peoples  representing 
two  different  stages  of  civilization,  and  both  engaged 
in  producing  the  same  commodities.  . Thus  the  freest 
nations  are  constantly  pulled  down  to  ruin  by  the 
most  oppressed.  What  would  happen  to  heaven  if 
you  took  down  the  fence  between  it  and  hell?  We 
are  resolved  that  our  republic  shall  be  of  itself,  by 
itself — “in  a great  pool,  a swan’s  nest.” 

As  a corollary  to  these  propositions,  we  decree 
that  our  Congress  shall  have  the  right  to  fix  the 
rate  of  compensation  for  all  forms  of  labor,  so  that 
wages  shall  never  fall  below  a rate  that  will  alford  the 
laborer  a comfortable  living,  with  a margin  that  will 
enable  him  to  provide  for  his  old  age.  It  is  simply  a 
question  of  the  adjustment  of  values.  This  experi- 
ment has  been  tried  before  by  different  countries,  but 
it  was  always  tried  in  the  interest  of  the  employers ; 
the  laborers  had  no  voice  in  the  matter ; and  it  was 
the  interest  of  the  upper  class  to  cheapen  labor ; and 
hence  Muscle  became  a drug  and  Cunning  invaluable 
and  masterful;  and  the  process  was  continued  in- 
definitely until  the  catastrophe  came.  Now  labor 
has  its  own  branch  of  our  Congress,  and  can  defend 
its  rights  and  explain  its  necessities. 

In  the  comparison  of  views  between  the  three 
classes  some  reasonable  ground  of  compromise  will 
generally  be  found ; and  if  error  is  committed  we  pre- 
fer that  it  should  enure  to  the  benefit  of  the  many, 
instead  of,  as  heretofore,  to  the  benefit  of  the  few. 

We  declare  in  the  preamble  to  our  constitution 
that  “this  government  is  intended  to  be  merely  a 
plain  and  simple  instrument,  to  insure  to  every  in- 


CJESAR'S  COLVMS.^ 


359 


clustrious  citizen  not  only  liberty,  but  an  educated 
mind,  a comfortable  home,  an  abundant  supply  of 
food  and  clothing,  and  a pleasant,  happy  life.” 

Are  not  these  the  highest  objects  for  which  gov- 
ernments can  exist?  And  if  government,  on  the  old 
lines,  did  not  yield  these  results,  should  it  not  have 
been  so  reformed  as  to  do  so  ? 

We  shall  not  seek  to  produce  uniformity  of  recom- 
pense for  all  kinds  of  work ; for  we  know  that  skilled 
labor  is  intrinsically  worth  more  than  unskilled ; and 
there  are  some  forms  of  intellectual  toil  that  are 
more  valuable  to  the  world  than  any  muscular  exer- 
tion. The  object  will  be  not  to  drag  down,  but  to 
lift  up ; and,  above  all,  to  prevent  the  masses  from 
falling  into  that  awful  slough  of  wretchedness  which 
has  just  culminated  in  world-wide  disaster. 

The  government  will  also  regulate  the  number  of 
apprentices  who  shall  enter  any  given  trade  or  pur- 
suit. For  instance,  there  may  be  too  many  shoe- 
makers and  not  enough  farmers ; if,  now,  more  shoe- 
makers crowd  into  that  trade,  they  will  simply  help 
starve  those  already  there;  but  if  they  are  distrib- 
uted to  farming,  and  other  employments,  where 
there  is  a lack,  then  there  is  more  work  for  the  shoe- 
makers, and  in  time  a necessity  for  more  shoe- 
makers. 

There  is  no  reason  why  the  ingenuity  of  man 
should  not  be  applied  to  these  great  questions.  It 
has  conquered  the  forces  of  steam  and  electricity, 
but  it  has  neglected  the  great  adjustments  of  society, 
on  which  the  happiness  of  millions  depends.  If  the 
same  intelligence  which  has  been  bestowed  on  per- 
fecting the  steam-engine  had  been  directed  to  a con- 
sideration of  the  correlations  of  man  to  man,  and 


360 


pursuit  to  pursuit,  supply  and  demand  would  have 
precisely  matched  each  other,  and  there  need  have 
been  no  pauperism  in  the  world — save  that  of  the 
sick  and  imbecile.  And  the  very  mendicants  would 
begin  to  rise  when  the  superincumbent  pressure 
of  those  who  live  on  the  edge  of  pauperism  had 
been  withdrawn. 

We  deny  gold  and  silver  any  function  as  money 
except  for  small  amounts— such  as  five  dollars  or 
less.  We  know  of  no  supplies  of  those  metals  in  our 
mountains,  and  if  we  tied  our  prosperity  to  their 
chariot,  the  little,  comparatively,  there  is  among  us, 
would  gradually  gravitate  into  a few  hands,  and 
these  men  would  become  the  masters  of  the  country. 
We  issue,  therefore,  a legal-tender  paper  money,  re- 
ceivable for  all  indebtedness,  public  and  private,  and 
not  to  be  increased  beyond  a certain  per  capita  of 
population. 

We  decree  a limitation  upon  the  amount  of  land 
or  money  any  one  man  can  possess.  All  above  that 
must  be  used,  either  by  the  owner  or  the  govern- 
ment, in  works  of  public  usefulness. 

There  is  but  one  town  in  oui*  colony — it  is  indeed 
not  much  more  than  a village — called  Stanley.  The 
republic  has  taken  possession  of  all  the  land  in  and 
contiguous  to  it,  not  already  built  on — paying  the 
owners  the  present  price  of  the  same ; and  hereafter 
no  lots  will  be  sold  except  to  persons  who  buy  to 
build  homes  for  themselves;  and  these  lots  will  be 
sold  at  the  original  cost  price.  Thus  the  opportu- 
nity for  the  poor  to  secure  homes  will  never  be  di- 
minished. 

We  further  decree  that  when  hereafter  any 
towns  or  cities  or  villages  are  to  bp  established,  it 


CESAR'S  COLUMN. 


361 


shall  only  be  by  the  nation  itself.  Whenever  one 
hundred  persons  or  more  petition  the  govern- 
ment, expressing  their  desire  to  build  a town,  the 
government  shall  then  take  possession  of  a sufficient 
tract  of  land,  paying  the  intrinsic,  not  the  artificial, 
price  therefor.  It  shall  then  lay  the  land  out  in 
lots,  and  shall  give  the  petitioners  and  others  the 
right  to  take  the  lots  at  the  original  cost  pi'ice,  pro- 
vided they  make  their  homes  upon  them.  We  shut 
out  all  speculators. 

No  towns  started  in  any  other  way  shall  have  rail- 
road or  mail  facilities. 

When  once  a municipality  is  created  in  the  way  I 
have  described,  it  shall  provide,  in  the  plat  of  the 
town,  parks  for  recreation ; no  lot  shall  contain  less 
than  half  an  acre ; the  streets  shall  be  very  wide  and 
planted  with  fruit  trees  in  double  and  treble  rows. 
In  the  center  of  the  town  shall  be  erected  a town 
hall,  with  an  assembly  chamber,  arranged  like  a thea- 
ter, and  large  enough  to  seat  all  the  inhabitants. 
The  building  shall  also  contain  free  public  baths,  a 
library,  a reading-room,  public  offices,  etc.  The  mu- 
nicipality shall  divide  the  people  into  groups  of  five 
hundred  families  each,  and  for  each  group  they  shall 
furnish  a physician,  to  be  paid  for  out  of  the  general 
taxes.  They  shall  also  provide  in  the  same  way  con- 
certs and  dramatic  representations  and  lectures, 
free  of  charge.  The  hours  of  labor  are  limited  to 
eight  each  day ; and  there  are  to  be  two  holidays  in 
the  week,  Wednesdays  and  Sundays.  Just  as  the 
state  is  able  to  carry  the  mails  for  less  than  each 
man  could  carry  them  for  himself,  so  the  cost  of  phy- 
sicians and  entertainments  procured  by  the  munici- 
pality will  be  much  l^s  than  under  the  old  system. 


362 


CESAR’S  COLUMN. 


We  do  not  give  any  encouragement  to  labor-sav- 
ing inventions,  although  we  do  not  discard  them. 
We  think  the  end  of  government  should  be — not 
cheap  goods  or  cheap  men,  but  happy  families.  If 
any  man  makes  a serviceable  invention  the  state 
purchases  it  at  a reasonable  price  for  the  benefit  of 
the  people. 

Men  are  elected  to  whom  all  disputes  are  referred ; 
each  of  the  contestants  selects  a man,  and  the  three 
act  together  as  arbitrators.  Where  a jury  is  de- 
manded the  defeated  party  pays  all  the  expenses.  We 
hold  that  it  is  not  right  that  all  the  peaceable  citizens 
should  be  taxed  to  enable  two  litigious  fellows  to 
quarrel.  Where  a man  is  convicted  of  crime  he  is 
compelled  to  work  out  all  the  cost  of  his  trial  and 
conviction,  and  the  cost  of  his  support  as  a prisoner, 
before  he  can  be  discharged.  If  vice  will  exist,  it 
must  be  made  self-supporting. 

[An  extract  from  Gabriel’s  journal — five  years 
later.} 

I have  just  left  a very  happy  group  upon  the  ve- 
randa— Estella  and  our  two  darling  little  children; 
Christina  and  her  three  flaxen-haired  beauties. 
Max  is  away  on  his  sheep  farm.  My  mother  and 
Mrs.  and  Mr.  Phillips  are  reading,  or  playing  with 
the  children.  The  sun  is  shining  brightly,  and  the 
birds  are  singing.  I enter  my  library  to  make  this 
entry  in  my  journal. 

God  has  greatly  blessed  us  and  all  our  people. 
There  were  a few  conservatives  who  strenuously  ob- 
jected at  first  to  our  reforms;  but  we  mildly  sug- 
gested to  them  that  if  they  were  not  happy — and 
desired  it — we  would  transfer  them  to  the  outside 


a¥;SAR\S  COLUMN. 


aoa 

world,  where  they  could  enjoy  the  fruits  of  the  time- 
hallowed  systems  they  praised  so  much.  They  are 
now  the  most  vigorous  supporters  of  the  new  order 
of  things.  And  this  is  one  of  the  merits  of  your  true 
conservative:  if  you  can  once  get  him  into  the  right 
course  he  will  cling  to  it  as  tenaciously  as  he  formerly 
clung  to  the  wrong.  They  are  not  naturally  bad 
men ; their  brains  are  simply  incapable  of  suddenly 
adjusting  themselves  to  new  conceptions. 

The  Demon  returned  yesterday  from  a,  trip  to  the 
outside  world.  Max’s  forebodings  have  been  terribly 
realized.  Three-fourths  of  the  human  race,  in  the 
civilized  lands,  have  been  swept  away.  In  France  and 
Italy  and  Russia  the  slaughter  has  been  most  appall- 
ing. In  ma,ny  places  the  Demon  sailed  for  hundreds 
of  miles  without  seeing  a human  being.  The  wild 
beasts — wolves  and  bears  — are  reassuming  posses- 
sion of  the  country.  In  Scandinavia  and  in  north- 
ern America,  where  the  severity  of  the  climate 
somewhat  mitigated  the  ferocity  of  man,  some 
sort  of  government  is  springing  up  again;  and 
the  peasants  have  formed  themselves  into  troops 
to  defend  their  cattle  and  their  homes  against  the 
marauders. 

But  civility,  culture,  seem  to  have  disappeared. 
There  are  no  newspapers,  no  books,  no  schools,  no 
teachers.  The  next  generation  will  be  simply  barba- 
rians, possessing  only  a few  dim  legends  of  the  refine- 
ment and  wonderful  powers  of  their  ancestors. 
Fortunate  it  is,  indeed,  that  here,  in  these  mountains, 
we  have  preserved  all  the  instrumentalities  with 
which  to  restore,  when  the  world  is  ready,  to  receive 
it,  the  civilization  of  the  former  ages. 

Our  constitution  has  worked  admirably.  Not  far 


364 


CESAR’S  COLUMN. 


from  here  has  arisen  the  beautiful  village  of  Lincoln. 
It  is  a joy  to  visit  it,  as  I do  very  often. 

The  wide  streets  are  planted  with  trees ; not  shade 
trees,  but  fruit  trees,  the  abundance  of  which  is  free 
to  all.  Around  each  modest  house  there  is  a garden, 
blooming  with  flowers  and  growing  food  for  the 
household.  There  are  no  lordly  palaces  to  cast  a 
chill  shadow  over  humble  industry ; and  no  resplen- 
dent vehicles  to  arouse  envy  and  jealousy  in  the 
hearts  of  the  beholders.  Instead  of  these  shallow 
vanities  a sentiment  of  brotherly  love  dwells  in  all 
hearts.  The  poor  man  is  not  worked  to  death, 
driven  to  an  early  grave  by  hopeless  and  incessant 
toil.  No ; he  sings  while  he  works,  and  his  heart  is 
merry.  No  dread  shadow  of  hunger  hangs  over 
him.  We  are  breeding  men,  not  millionaires. 

And  the  good  wife  sings  also  while  she  prepares 
the  evening  meal,  for  she  remembers  that  this  is  the 
night  of  the  play ; and  yonder,  on  that  chair,  lies  the 
unfinished  dress  which  her  handsome  daughter  is  to 
wear,  next  Saturday  night,  to  the  weekly  ball.  And 
her  sons  are  greatly  interested  in  the  lectures  on 
chemistry  and  history. 

Let  us  look  in  upon  them  at  their  supper.  The 
merry,  rosy  faces  of  young  and  old ; the  cheerful  con- 
verse; the  plain  and  abundant  food.  Here  are  veg- 
etables from  their  own  garden,  and  fruit  from  the 
trees  that  line  the  wide  streets. 

Listen  to  their  talk!  The  father  is  telling  how 
the  municipality  bought,  some  three  years  ago,  a 
large  number  of  female  calves,  at  a small  cost;  and 
now  they  are  milch  cows ; and  the  town  authorities 
are  about  to  give  one  of  them  to  every  poor  family 
that  is  without  one. 


UJ'JSAlt'S  COLUMN. 


And  they  praise  this  work;  they  love  mankind, 
and  the  good,  kindly  government — their  own  govern- 
ment— which  so  cares  for  humanity  and  strives  to 
lift  it  up.  And  then  the  father  explains  that  each 
person  who  now  receives  a free  gift  of  a milch  cow  is 
to  bring  to  the  municipal  government  the  first  female 
calf  raised  by  that  cow,  and  the  city  will  care  fee 
that,  too,  for  two  or  three  years,  and  then  bestow  it 
upon  some  other  poor  family;  and  so,  in  endless  rot:;, 
tion,  the  organized  benevolence  does  its  v.' ork,  persn- 
nial  as  seed-time  and  harvest;  and  none  a. 3 the 
poorer  for  it,  and  all  are  the  happier. 

But  come;  they  have  finished  their  supper,  amid 
much  merriment,  and  are  preparing  to  go  to  the 
play.  Let  us  follow  them.  How  the  streets  swarm ! 
Not  with  the  dark  and  terrible  throngs  that  dwell  so 
vividly  in  my  memory;  but  a joyous  crowd — laughing, 
talking,  loving  one  another — each  with  a merry 
smile  and  a kindly  word  for  his  neighbor.  And  here 
we  are  at  the  door  of  the  play-house. 

There  is  no  fumbling  to  find  the  coins  that  can 
perhaps  be  but  poorly  spared ; but  free  as  the  streets 
the  great  doors  stand  open.  What  hurry,  what  con- 
fusion, what  chatter,  what  a rustle  of  dresses,  as 
they  seek  their  seats. 

But  hush ! The  curtain  rises.  The  actors  are  their 
own  townspeople  — young  men  and  women  who 
have  shown  an  aptitude  for  the  art ; they  have  been 
trained  at  the  cost  of  the  town,  and  are  paid  a small 
stipend  for  their  services  once  a week.  How  the 
lights  shine ! How  sweet  is  the  music ! What  a beau- 
tiful scene ! And  what  lovely  figures  are  these,  clad 
in  the  picturesque  garb  of  some  far-away  country  or 
some  past  age.  And  listen ! They  are  telling  the  old, 


O^SAU^S  column. 


,‘i66 

old  storj;  old  as  the  wooing  of  Eve  in  Eden;  the 
story  of  human  love,  always  so  dear,  so  precious  to 
the  human  heart. 

But  see!  the  scene  has  changed — here  is  a merry- 
making ; a crowd  of  flower-wreathed  lads  and  lasses 
enter,  and  the  harmonious  dance,  instinct  with  life 
and  motion,— the  poetry  of  human  limbs,— unrolls 
itself  before  our  eyes. 

And  so  the  pretty  drama  goes  forward.  An  idyl 
of  the  golden  age ; of  that  glorious  epoch  when  vir- 
tue was  always  triumphant,  and  vice  was  always  ex- 
posed and  crushed. 

But  the  play  is  over;  and  the  audience  stream 
back,  laughing  and  chatting,  under  the  stars,  down 
the  long,  fruit-embowered  streets,  to  their  flower- 
bedecked,  humble  homes.  ‘ 

And  how  little  it  costs  to  make  mankind  happy ! 

And  what  do  we  miss  in  all  this  joyous  scene? 
Why,  where  are  the  wolves,  that  used  to  prowl 
through  the  towns  and  cities  of  the  world  that 
has  passed  away?  The  slinking,  sullen,  bloody- 
mouthed  miscreants,  who,  under  one  crafty  device 
or  another,  would  spring  upon,  and  tear,  and  de- 
stroy the  poor,  shrieking,  innocent  people — where 
are  they  ? 

Ah ! this  is  the  difference : The  government  which 
formerly  fed  and  housed  these  monsters,  under  cun- 
ning kennels  of  perv^erted  law,  and  broke  open  holes 
in  the  palisades  of  society,  that  they  might  crawl 
through  and  devastate  the  community,  now  shuts 
up  every  crevice  through  which  they  could  enter; 
stops  every  hole  of  opportunity;  crushes  down 
every  uprising  instinct  of  cruelty  and  selfishness. 
And  the  wolves  have  disappeared;  and  our  little 


CA'SAR’S  column.  36? 

world  is  a garden  of  peace  and  beauty,  musical  with 
laughter. 

And  so  mankind  moves  with  linked  hands  through 
happy  lives  to  happy  deaths ; and  God  smiles  down 
upon  them  from  his  throne  beyond  the  stars. 


